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yoshibb · 3 years

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Hi! Little something different from usual. I saw the @shepherds-of-haven summer prompt list and I decided to give it a try. Shepherds of Haven is a WIP interactive fiction and it has been such a huge comfort read for me, I highly recommend it! While I'm in love with all the characters, my favorite RO is Chase, so this story is for the prompt sleep with my F!MCAerynXChase. I did my best to keep everything as accurate as possible character and lore wise >.< Thanks for reading! Blinding Light Chase can't sleep. The concept itself isn't disturbing. He's gone plenty a night without a wink of shut-eye. But to not be able to, to have his thoughts jumbled, his leg bouncing, it's unusual. He stretches his fingers in front of him, flexing them soundlessly in the dark like he can find the answer in the lines of his palms.

Something is wrong.

He sits up, not bothering to find a light, his eyes long adjusted to the dark. There are still sounds coming from the Shepherds' Compound, but it's clear that the majority of the occupants have turned in. He doesn't always stay on grounds, but he's been making more exceptions recently for whatever reason.

There's no point in trying to join them in their well deserved rest. He rolls out of bed, slipping into an outfit suitable for traversing the city's rooftops. If his mind refuses to be silent then he might as well occupy it before it decides to turn to more... uncomfortable subjects.

He climbs out onto the rooftop and pauses. An irresistible urge to check on Aeryn tugs at him. For a moment he considers ignoring it. It's late, she needs her rest more than anyone and despite his stealth there is always the small chance he could wake her. But like most forces involving Aeryn, it's less of a tug and more of a compulsion. He spins around, lightly stepping to her bedroom window. He starts to undo the lock but finds it already open. He smiles to himself, forgetting that she'd stopped bothering to latch it after he'd picked it so many times.

She never asks him 'why he never uses the door' like a normal person would or scolds him for invading her privacy outside a brief huff of annoyance. It is strangely difficult to get under her skin, but a challenge he's taken to whole-heartedly.

However, though the space inside is dark, the bed is empty. His heart trembles with an ominous thump. He shakes his head, scolding himself. There are plenty of explanations for this. His eyes drift about the room to take in what's missing. Most notably her sword that usually rests against her nightstand. She normally leaves it close enough to grab in case of danger. The bed is made and her uniform is gone.

He should check the patrol schedule.

What are you doing?

He stutter steps when he reaches the low lights of the hallway. What is he doing? He should be picking the lock on some unsuspecting noble's balcony by now. And yet nothing stopped him from progressing towards the large board downstairs.

The lamps provide just enough light for him to read. Letters which were once incomprehensible now make perfect sense thanks to Aeryn's tutoring. His smile lengthens as her name jumps out at him. He even knows the route she's covering. Not the best part of Haven, but not the worst. He has nothing to worry about.

He blinks and looks down. He plants his hand on his disobedient limb, physically stopping his right leg from bouncing. He studies it like it's a mystical object rather than a part of his body. His eyes slide up to Aeryn's name again, the discontent tug now like a rope around his wrist, dragging him to where she should be.

He was going to do a little sightseeing anyway, what would the harm be in 'bumping' into her?

Soon enough he is outside, climbing the walls and out into the streets of Haven. Darting into the first alley, he bounces off the wall and uses his momentum to reach the ledge, pulling himself up onto the roof without any trouble. The air is cool, comfortably so. The wind barely provides any resistance as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop.

Normally, he'd take in the sights, watch for a potential target, enjoy the rush of adrenaline. It's the perfect night for a sprint, but his mind is clouded by the hunt. He scans the streets below, empty besides the rare drunkard or overworked laborer.

Until he finally sees her, long golden honey hair that somehow still shimmers under insufficient light. A presence that always seems to blind him the minute she catches his gaze.

His heart beats against its cage, his smile stretching until his cheeks hurt. His sunshine, his Aeryn.

He catches himself, pressing a hand against his mouth as a cold shiver courses through him. No, not his. Free to come and go as she pleased. In and out of his bed, to be with whoever she wanted. Just as he is.

Regaining control of himself he looks down again, studying the sway of her hips and the grace of her walk. It's enough to ignite a flame inside his core that he's eager to chase. A smirk smooths its way across his lips. It would be a matter of convincing her to abandon her post, but she's never turned him down before.

He skips over one more roof and leaps down silently, a building's distance between them. The first time he'd snuck up on her like this, she'd nearly taken his head from his shoulders. He had the reflexes to dodge her if he needed to, but she stopped her stroke before it nicked his throat. She'd sighed and asked him not to do it again. He'd simply smiled and stepped closer to her, promising nothing.

He'd repeated his stunt again with similar results but never in the dead of night. A thrill weaves through him as he approaches her, his tongue dancing out over his lower lip.

And then she turns.

Sharply, west, down a dark alley. The move startles him and unlike his normal marks, he trails her blindly.

An arm shoots out and cuts off his progress, causing him to stumble to a stop. Her other arm grazes against his back, effectively caging him in.

"Chase," Aeryn says in a scolding yet fond manner.

"It appears you've caught me, Captain," he reclines against the brick wall between the barrier of her arms, a lazy smile painting his lips. "So what do you plan to do with me?" Aeryn shakes her head.

"That's it? No tricks? You're just giving up? I don't believe it." Her eyes dance across his form and he's more than happy to allow it.

"I'm finding this position more than agreeable at the moment, but we'll see how things play out, sunshine." He propels himself forward from his lounging position. He pauses, their similar heights allowing him to nearly brush his lips against hers. To her credit she doesn't flinch, keeping her arms fixed on either side of him. He tilts his head in playful innocence. "I can offer a bribe, but I've heard you are an honest sort."

Aeryn hums unable to stop her own smile from echoing his, "I may be open to a different sort of bribe."

He chuckles low in his throat, the flicker of heat growing into a furnace. He nearly closes the distance, but he manages to draw back. He wants to see the thirst in her eyes first. The inescapable longing he's felt all night.

Instead, he's met with her concern. It catches him off guard, and he struggles to keep his nonchalant grin in place. "Aeryn?"

She catches his chin in her fingers and ignites a magelight with her other hand. He swallows tightly as she examines his face like a healer would.

"Your skin is pale," she says.

"Just a trick of the light. Nothing worth worrying yourself over." He gently tries to push her hand away. But she's insistent, thumb tracing his bottom lip, faintly cracked beneath her touch.

"You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been sleeping?" She chides him. He tries to defend himself, but he's too distracted by the way her fingers glide across his cheek and lightly stroking his eyelashes. His eyelids flutter, and his body shivers under her featherlight caresses. Soft and caring and so completely foreign. He leans into her palm, lowering his guard for just a moment.

And she doesn't waste it.

She leans in and presses a tender kiss to the curve of his jaw. Wrapping her arms around him, she folds their bodies together until the two of them become intimately one. He turns his head into the crook of her neck, deeply inhaling the heady scent of sage. He cards his fingers into her long hair, enjoying the feel of it as it slides through the gaps of his fingers.

And it's enough. He allows himself to sink further until he's drowning in her embrace. Where no one can touch him, nothing can ever hurt him again, as long as she has him. She lays butterfly kisses on his forehead and each of his eyelids before releasing him. He very nearly clings to her but forces himself to let go, knees weak as he falls against the wall. She holds his hand for a moment longer, squeezing it tightly.

"Go to bed, please. For me? I'll be back soon." She promises, her grip slipping from his.

Instead of letting him disagree, she kisses him softly good night, her lips offering no more than a caress. He stands frozen for a moment, watching her disappear around the corner. As if leaving is so simple.

Confusion muddles his mind as he slides down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud. He stares at his hand, still tingling from her touch. Her scent still lingering on his clothes.

He starts to get up, ready to continue on with his plans for the night only for his limbs to betray him. He stumbles against the tidal wave of exhaustion. It suddenly feels as if he could sleep for days. He searches for the cure for his insomnia and finds her further down the road. His heart soars to life again. And then a deep fear creeps up his spine.

What's come over me?

#shepherds of haven #shepherds summer 2021 #chase trinaeste #hoping I did this man justice <3

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pure-a-tea · 2 years

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thank you for all the questions!!! where do you get your inspiration from for your mobile themes, what’s your current favorite song and what would you say your aesthetic is?! 💕💕💕

omg- happily, sweetie!! and thank you for asking me back, i genuinely appreciate that <3 anyways, here are my long, boring-ass answers, lol. you don't have to read this, but i enjoyed writing this for you xx

re: "where do you get your inspiration for your mobile themes?"

i assume you're asking about my tumblr theme on mobile? 'cause if you do, i don't really get a specific inspiration. it's basically my preference for aesthetics. i will, however, explain more about it if you're interested, lol.

. colour theme: i went with a light blue colour (#7b8590) because i personally prefer desaturated colours; pastel-like. not really sure how to describe them, but basically faded colours that aren't too saturated or bright. i just feel like lighter colours are easier on the eyes.

. header: i found the stars and moon gif when i was scrolling through tumblr and i liked it so i thought i'd be nice to use a header with some dynamics to it. when i found that it fit the header size, i thought it looked better when it didn't stretch to fill it, and i actually thought it looked better when it gets a nice border with that setting.

. profile picture: i thought my profile picture was distracting and it was bothering me, so i disabled it. however, i was still looking for something because i noticed that my profile pic constantly shows up on different occasions. so, i chose that picture specifically because it wasn't too strong or distracting -- it gives my profile a nice, softer look. i also chose one with a subject that is close to my heart so it'd be more personal. like a personal blog, yk? and i really love cats, haha.

. bio: i just wrote some general info about myself, not wanting to overshare but still add something about myself. so i wrote my name with pronouns, age, sexuality, and my two fav people out of all of my fandoms. i thought it looked more spacious when i add space between each word and character (for ex. "( she / her )"). there isn't an option on tumblr to add a new line so i divided each subject with a "|".

re: "what's your current favourite song?"

i always find that question hard to answer because i have so many songs that i love, and i can never choose just one, lmao. if you don't mind, though, i will write my current top 5 favourite songs:

i. phantogram - black out days it's been in my top 5 songs on spotify for three years in a row, apparently!!

ii. billie eilish - happier than ever honestly i have so many favourite songs by her, but this one is probably the one i listen to the most. also, she was my top artist on spotify for 2 or 3 years in a row. unintentionally.

iii. the front bottoms - twin size mattress this song can just randomly pop into my head for no reason. and i love it!

iv. mitski - nobody lowkey can listen to this song on repeat and never get tired of hearing it!! and i love mitski!!

v. steve lacy - dark red i relate to the words a bit too much and i've been listening to this over and over ever since my recent breakup.

bonus: billie eilish - nda // arctic monkeys - 505 because they're both one of my fav artists and i've been obsessed with the parts that editors use on tiktok/insta edits.

re: "what would you say your favourite aesthetic is?"

that's such a tough one! because i don't have just one aesthetic, and it usually changed with my moods. for example, many people would probably say that my aesthetic is somewhere in the softcore or naturecore or even fairycore, and that is accurate on some days, but sometimes my aesthetics could be like grunge or vintage or darkcore... sometimes, i even have a dark academia or royaltycore.

funnily enough, my aesthetics could also come in colours! for example, i could suddenly have an aesthetic for everything blue (dark and light separately), yellow (because i have a hufflepuff heart), green (sometimes the nature green, but sometimes the evil/slytherin green). i also always have a place in my heart for purple, and in autumn i have a very strong red/orange aesthetic. one time i got a short pink aesthetic, lol.

ANYWAYS- this is it!! sorry that it's so long and i'm even more sorry that it might be boring, hehe... i really appreciate that you asked, it really warmed my heart <3

hope you have/you've had an amazing day xx

#asks #get to know me #get to know the blogger #personal #puckssbunny #aesthetics #my aesthetics #aesthetic

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going-fancognito · 4 years

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Hi! I love ur work ! How about a head canon of Revali, Sidon and Link were they make they s/o cry. Like they were fighting or they said something that hurt their feelings.

*I spy with my little eye, one of my guilty pleasure tropes*

Everytime someone says they like my writing I go through two stages; 1. Shocked disbelief 2. Going into a fit of happy child giggling.

Seriously, to everyone who takes the time to read my stuff; TYSM!!

Okay enough gushing, ya’ll came for a head canons!

Characters are ordered from most to least likely to make you cry.

Revali:

I think we all saw this coming.

Best Rito isn’t known as an asshole for nothing, so obviously he topped this list.

(Hey, first time he ever beat Link at something)

It’s normal for you two to bicker

But there’s one time where it got way out of hand

Now when Revali’s angry, he shoots words out like a machine gun: they’re quick, painful and accurate

(Good luck getting a word in edgewise)

His comments eventually drive you to tears

UNFORTUNATELY, Featherhead here is a hothead

Will be too caught up in the moment

“Oh there’s no need to act childish Y/N,” There’s a mocking bite in his tone “enough with the crocodile tears.”

When you continue sobbing, his anger starts melting away to guilt

Suddenly he’s very aware of what he’s said

He done fucked up

He’s at a loss for what to do

Will mumble something about training and take off, leaving you alone for the rest of the day

(It’s not that he doesn’t care, he’s just worried that he’ll make things worse right now)

Eventually you cry yourself to sleep in the same spot from that afternoon

You wake up the next morning wrapped in a bundle of blankets inside your hammock

Once you’ve managed to untangled yourself, you spot Revali nearby preparing breakfast

He glances up when he hears you approach

Nervously, he slides some fresh cooked omelettes onto a plate and hands it to you without a word

His face looked like he was worried you’d to eat him instead

(And not in the good way)

You both spend a good minute staring at each other, trying to figure out what to say

Revali decides to break the silence first

“I took some time to to reflect on last night’s events. I realize that I......may have gone too far.”

“No shit.” Sadness had morphed into anger overnight. If he wanted your forgiveness, he’ll need to say a lot more than that

Instead of the usual snippy retort, Revali nods “I suppose I earned that”

...Well that’s not the response you were expecting

Apparently he paid a visit to Zelda last night to discuss her recent friendship with Link.

He wanted to know how she managed to resolve things between them.

Throughout his explanation, his gaze remained trained on the wooden floor

His feathers begin to fluff up when you don’t respond right away

“I have many talents y/n, but this isn’t one of them. I have little experience in romantic relationships, along with the difficulties that come with it”

“However,” He finally meets your gaze. “I wish to learn. If you are willing to give me a chance, I promise to do my upmost to work on...this.” He gestures between you and him with his wing “What happened last night... I swear that it will never reach that point again.”

And if you allow him to, Revali will make good on his word

Link:

This guy’s mastered the silent treatment

Link’s a quiet guy so he tends to become distanced when he’s angry, rather then yell it all out

You learn this the hard way after a particularly bad argument with him

Suddenly, he’s acting colder than an ice talus

No matter what you say, the only response you’ll get is a dismissive grunt

This goes on for days

The dude is surprisingly good at holding a grudge

However, one night he returns home late and hears faint weeping

He sneaks upstairs and finds you with your back turned to him while you quietly cry yourself to sleep

His heart nearly cracks in two once he catches a glimpse of your tear-stained face

Will quickly leave before he can get caught

Conversations aren’t his thing, and the situation required more than a simple apology

One thing is clear though; he needed to make amends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a note on your pillow the next morning

Inside it is your boyfriends handwriting, apologizing for his behaviour

Will proceed to list everything he loves about you, from the general things to your little quirks; everything he never says out loud

You did’t even realize you did half of these things

But Link did

And he loves all of it

At the bottom, he makes you a promise to make up for the last few days

Downstairs, Link’s prepared your favourite dishes

Any of his recent cold behaviour is nowhere to be found

During breakfast, he lets you know that he’s taken the weekend off to spend time with you

That weekend feels like heaven

What Link lacks in words, he makes up for action

Will insist on doing your share of chores, takes you horseback riding for a picnic, he even shows you his secret spot for stargazing

You both take the time to enjoy each others company

By the end of it, the argument is nothing more than a distant memory

Sidon:

It-it honestly hurts my brain to imagine this soft boi being angry

Like, no.

He baby.

It will take a LOT to make Sidon lose his temper

Even then, it’s probably over something like your safety

For example, if you have a habit of recklessly running into danger with no regard for your own safety like a certain Hylian

Sidon will try to bring up his concerns with you. Multiple times.

You just wave it off every time

The constant dismissing eventually causes him to snap

He won’t do anything big, maybe just raise his voice or shout in frustration

“Would you please LISTEN TO ME!?”

(Bruh, even when he’s angry he’s polite)

Unfortunately, Sidon is also an 8ft. shark with a booming voice

You know he’d never actually lay a claw on you. He was a gentle lover (No, not like that you naughty sinners)

However; when you hear the natural growl in his voice, and baring his fangs in irritation-

In that that moment, you’re terrified to the point that tears start sliding down your cheeks. You don’t even notice them as they fall

But Sidon does

Poor baby is crushed

Will immediately crouch down and gently gather you up in his arms

He tries to make his voice as soft as possible, cooing words into your ear in an effort to put at ease

“Shh, shh - please don’t cry darling. I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He rubs small circles on your back to help calm you down. “I swear that won’t happen again.”

Great, now he’s crying too.

(You might actually need to comfort him now too)

Once you’ve both calmed down, you try talking things out again.

This time, you take his worries about you more seriously

(Seriously, where’s Sidons’ official Disney prince title?)

(Get on that Disney)

#revalixreader #linkxreader #sidonxreader #botwxreader #link botw #botw #botw headcanons #botw imagines #my writing #revali #sidon #revali x reader #link x reader #botw link x reader #sidon x reader

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thornedrose44 · 4 years

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What Would It Take?

Read on AO3

Their friendship was stronger than it had ever been but it was also so, so, so different to what it once was for Kara.

They were open and honest about their day, their fears, their hopes… everything. And with all that came vulnerability, laying yourself bare and exposed.

For Lena, things were probably no different to the last time, she had always been open, had never hidden away parts of herself from Kara Danvers, had been honest about her relationship with Lex and all the positives and negatives that came with that.

But for Kara this was an entirely new experience.

Previously, Kara had kept her walls up and had hidden her defences behind lies and subterfuge. She would empathise with Lena but never reveal shared experiences, would keep her loss and pain close to the chest, would allude but never directly explain. Now, Kara was Kara Zor-El with Lena. There were no shadows to hide in, nor half-formed lies and rushed excuses to duck behind. She was no longer keeping a part of herself hidden away and protected.

When they re-started their friendship it came with the understanding that there would be no more lies or secrets between them. That for their friendship to work it had to be built on honesty at its most fundamental level.

With that agreement in place, over the course of their first few interactions, Kara came to a realisation that broke her.

It was the realisation that this (honesty and openness) was easier for Lena to do than it was for Kara. It was the realisation that Kara didn’t know how to have a relationship without some kind of secret to hide behind; even with Alex there were no-go topics and parts of themselves neither wanted to share. It was the realisation that Lena had time and time again, prior to the reveal, put herself out there thinking Kara was stood by her side, equally exposed and vulnerable.

With that realisation came a whole swathe of emotions.

Guilt.

Shame.

Pain.

Confusion.

But there also came a commitment.

A commitment to meet Lena halfway. To let herself be truly vulnerable with another person. Not just for Lena but for herself.

With that commitment came a strong friendship. A real one. More real than any Kara had ever had before.

Kara no longer filtered her thoughts to hide parts of herself. She spoke her mind and that… that was where the trouble really started.

For a number of reasons.

“Rao, you look beautiful.”

“Your mind is incredible.”

“You’re so graceful and elegant.”

“Lena, you’re just… fantastic, have I told you that recently?”

“I adore your eyes.”

All of those were said in a single day. Scratch that, a two hour period. Games Night to be exact.

Kara hadn’t even known she was doing it, let alone that frequently, until Nia had jumped into the air shouting “Bingo” after Kara had complimented Lena’s hair. Turns out the Superfriends (Kara was thinking of retracting that title) had started a ‘Compliment Bingo’ that they had been playing in secret for the last three months to capitalise on Kara’s tendency to sing Lena’s praises (literally singing Lena’s praises was on Alex and Brainy’s bingo charts and had won them the game at least twice). Nia and Alex had confessed all of this to Kara rather sheepishly after Lena had been pulled back to L-Corp to handle a business crisis following Nia’s ‘bingo’ exclamation.

Bingo-gate probably should have put an end to the compliments but by that point Kara had become somewhat addicted to the pink blush that would dust Lena’s lovely cheeks whenever Kara blurted out a compliment without thinking (having put her filter aside at the restart of their friendship).

See, the thing is… the big realisation at the restart of their friendship wasn’t just about Kara’s sudden self reflection nor her guilt for the earlier handling of her friendship with Lena. They were big parts, huge even, but they weren’t everything. And they weren’t the part that was plaguing Kara now, six months later.

The big realisation, the actual one that had come with having Lena in her life in a full and complete way after being deprived for so long, after thinking that she might never have her back again, never hold her hand, never hug her was…

Love.

Kara loved her.

The big kind of love.

The love Alex had been telling her about over the course of countless sister nights when it came to Maggie and now to Kelly.

The kind of love that meant every time you looked at them you saw something that was just so perfect and wonderful that you can barely keep the words of adoration back (not that Kara even tried to anymore). The kind of love that meant you wanted them safe and cared for.

And despite six months of carefully reconstructed friendship. Six months of coming to grips with the big realisation. Six months of being vulnerable with Lena. Six months of her eyes being open to a new reality where she was in love with her best friend.

Six life-changing months and it never even crossed her mind that Lena could feel the same way about her.

That was until today...

Today, Kara was going food shopping and, since she was also getting snacks for games night later that evening, Lena had offered to come along and help.

It was something that had become standard between them now. Keeping each other company for random chores and daily life excursions. Kara accompanied Lena to the gym to provide the CEO with light conversation and motivation despite not receiving any tangible benefit from the activity (though Kara found the sight of Lena, with a light sheen of sweat, stretching after a workout was a reward beyond anything she could have imagined). Lena, meanwhile, helped Kara with her taxes and happily kept Kara company when she had to sort out her laundry.

Kara had never had a friendship like this before. All of her other friendships (not including Alex) had required that there was some form of entertainment to go alongside every interaction. With Lena, there was no longer that pressure there. Lena would happily work away on her laptop whilst Kara edited her recent article without complaint, in fact, the raven-haired woman seemed to likewise appreciate how at ease they both felt when silent.

Therefore, when Lena offered to come food-shopping with her, Kara didn’t think twice about saying yes.

Kara worried her bottom lip as she looked between the two loaves of bread. One was freshly baked and still slightly warm to the touch. The other was store-branded, squashed on one side and far less appetising but it was a dollar cheaper. Kara let out a regretful sigh, as she put back the warm new loaf and grabbed two of the cheaper variety. Kara headed back to the trolley, tossing in her latest picks before dropping her gaze to scrutinise her scribbled list of items.

“Why didn’t you buy the other one?” Lena asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“Hmm…” Kara hummed, glancing over at the raven haired woman who had an unreadable expression on her face.

“The other loaf of bread.”

“This one’s cheaper.” Kara replied gesturing to the squashed loaves in the trolley.

“Why not get both?” Lena prompted.

“I don’t need both.”

“You may not need that particular loaf but you definitely need more than two.” Lena asserted, moving forward to lean against the side of Kara’s trolley, bringing her into Kara’s space.

Kara barely held back the ‘Rao, your eyes are the purest green’ that flitted through her mind as she struggled to stay focused on the rather bizarre conversation she was having right now. “I only ever buy two.” Kara pointed out.

“Yes but you need more.” Lena insisted, her gaze narrowing.

“I do?” Kara said dumbly, uncertain where Lena’s intensity was coming from.

“Yes!” Lena declared, “With the number of calories you burn through due to your ‘extra-curricular’ activities, you require a far more substantive intake that what you are currently acquiring for yourself.”

“Huh?” Kara blinked, she had definitely been listening but her attention had been only half on what Lena was saying; the other half had been on the way Lena’s long, delicate fingers twisted around the wired bars of the trolley so elegantly.

“Kara…” Lena sighed, her green eyes going soft and melancholic in that particular way that always made Kara’s heart flutter and twist in her chest as if it wanted to reach out itself to soothe the other woman. “The amount of food you have in your trolley and how much you intend to buy are nowhere near enough to cover your daily requirements. If my calculations are correct, you need to be buying out the entire store every other week.”

Kara’s face reddened with embarrassment at the far too accurate assessment causing her to rub the back of her neck nervously.

It was the fact that they had promised to be honest with one another in tandem with the destruction of Kara’s filter when it came to Lena, that resulted in the following words coming out of the blonde’s mouth so easily, “Shockingly enough, not everyone can buy an entire store.”

Kara hadn’t said it to be cruel or to disparage Lena’s own wealthy status. It wasn’t about that.

It was simply an honest statement.

One which revealed far more about Kara’s financial woes than she had ever let anyone find out. Not even Alex knew how Kara struggled to afford the food costs that came with being Supergirl. Alex had never joined the dots that Kara’s increased power usage would require an increased calorie count.

One which Kara frequently struggled to afford.

Lena, however, had already made the connection if the unsurprised look on her face at Kara’s response was anything to go by.

“What would it take for you to let me pay for it?” Lena questioned cutting right to the chase.

Kara was suddenly struck with the clarity that this was why Lena had requested to come with her to the supermarket in the first place.

“No, Lena, you can’t.” Kara rejected without even bothering to consider it as an option.

“Why not?” Lena tilted her head to the side expectantly, obviously wanting a clear cut reason, “Is it pride?”

“You’re my friend.” Kara reasoned futilely.

“Your friend, who wants to help.” Lena pointed out.

“It’s too much.” Kara tried instead.

“It’s food, Kara.” Lena said simply, “It’s a basic necessity that is never too much.” Lena reached out and placed a hand atop of Kara’s one that was tightly gripping her list of food that she could afford. Lena’s touch was gentle and grounding. “It is the bare minimum especially considering all you do for this city.”

Kara shook her head, dropping her gaze to the ground, “I don’t do that expecting anything in return.”

“I know that, that’s one of the reasons why I-” Lena’s voice cut off causing Kara to look up sharply at her, “Just...” Lena huffed out a breath of frustration, “Just tell me what it would take.”

“Lena…”

“What would it take?” Lena pushed.

“Why does it matter so much?” Kara asked instead of answering, switching the focus around. “I’ve been fine for years like this, Lena. Why does it matter?”

“Why does it matter?!” Lena spluttered, looking positively outraged. “It matters because it’s you. It matters because you deserve to have as much food as you need without worrying about paying rent. It matters because you matter. It matters because I-” Lena paled, biting down on her bottom lip hard.

“Because you?” Kara whispered, blue eyes wide with shock and hope as her heart hammered against the cage of her chest.

Lena opened and closed her mouth, her whole body tense and rigid before she exhaled deeply causing her entire being to deflate in acceptance and her head to hang, depriving Kara of bright green, “We promised each other honesty.” Lena muttered helplessly to herself, before she raised her chin determinedly, “Because I love you.”

The whole world went still. Everything went quiet. And Kara completely forgot how to breathe as Lena, yet again, took that first step of vulnerability. Yet again ventured forward, tearing down her own walls, to do something Kara didn’t know how to do.

Rao, Kara was in total awe of this woman.

This woman she adored. This woman that loved her.

This woman that made her want to strip away all her armour so that all of her could feel what it was like to bask in the presence of the one and only Lena Luthor.

“It matters for all the other reasons I said as well.” Lena continued, utterly unaware of how she had caused Kara’s entire being to unravel. “But it also matters because I love you and I can’t do nothing, Kara. I can’t do nothing when I have the very means to help you. So, please, please, please just tell me what it would take. Tell me what-”

Lena’s demands were cut off yet again.

Though this time it wasn’t her own doing, but Kara’s.

Kara’s lips pressed against hers to be exact.

It was there in the bread aisle of the local supermarket that Kara Zor-El did the first thing in her life solely as and for herself. The first time that Kara Zor-El was simply Kara Zor-El with no barriers, no armour, no secrets… and the free version of her wanted nothing more than to kiss the woman she loved.

So she did.

And it was… transcendent…

Kara cupped Lena’s cheeks with her hands so, so, so gently. She wasn’t keeping her in place or even guiding, her palms were barely brushing Lena’s skin but Kara had never needed something so much, to feel like she had her whole world safely cherished in her hands.

Lena’s lips were soft and pliable and Kara took so much care in mapping them out. Finding out how to slot their lips so that they fit perfectly together. Where to apply pressure to cause Lena’s breath to stutter. How to coax Lena’s lips gently open with the lightest swipe of her tongue.

Kara eventually pulled back an infinitesimal distance, parting so that their lips were just out of touch and their foreheads resting against each other.

“Marry me.” Kara breathed out.

“What?” Lena gasped, jerking backwards, green eyes wide and kiss-swollen lips parted in shock.

Kara laughed gleefully as she dropped her hands away from Lena’s face to wrap them around the other woman’s waist and pull her close.

“Did… did you-” Lena stuttered.

“Answer your question.” Kara grinned, pressing swift and delicate kisses to Lena’s jaw.

“My question?” Lena murmured, turning her head to the side to allow Kara a path down her neck.

“What would it take.” Kara muttered, nipping at Lena’s tendon and producing a sharp intake of breath. “For you to buy the whole store for me every other week.”

“Oh…” Lena leaned back to arch a sharp eyebrow at the blonde as a mischievous smile took over her face, “Well, now I have a goal to work towards.”

Kara’s eyes crinkled at the edges with joy, “Yeah, I guess you do.”

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor

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keys-to-the-kinkdom · 3 years

Note

Head empty, just lactation+medical examination+(oh idk *spins wheel*) yennefer or ciri or eskel, someone with lovely tits

Wish I had something better for you for an inaugural prompt set but my brain clocked out early for the weekend - 💛

Your prompt is wonderful even if your brain took off early because it has been living rent free in my head since I got it. I hope you enjoy this filth <3

Eskel squirmed on the hard wooden chair. The door remained firmly shut, no matter how he stared at it. They were using one of the old tower rooms having decreed that Yennefer’s room was too familiar and the old medical suite held too many past terrors. Instead, they’d set up this room. Eskel had helped her to carry in a variety of furniture then left her to it. Really, he had very little idea what lay behind the door and every minute he sat waiting to find out was another moment of torture.

The door opened and Yennefer stepped out. She was wearing a very plain black dress with practical boots and no jewellery. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She looked even more intimidating than normal.

‘Eskel?’ she said, sounding bored.

He stood and made his way through the door behind her. The room was brightly lit by torches and there was a cheerful fire burning in the hearth. One side of the room was taken up by a large, paper covered desk with an uncomfortable looking chair behind it. There were a couple of bookshelves that were filled with esoteric texts on medicine and anatomy. On the other side of the room was a bed, covered in a sheet of linen that had been treated with beeswax to make it water resistant. It was something he’d only ever seen court physicians use. Beside the bed was a table with a tray of various implements resting on the top. Other implements were arrayed on shelves around the room. He swallowed thickly.

‘Take a seat,’ Yennefer ordered, gesturing to the bed.

He sat.

‘So. What are you here for?’ she asked.

‘Umm…’ Eskel murmured, ducking his head so that his fringe flopped over his face.

‘Spit it out. I have other patients to see. I doubt it’s anything I’ve not heard before.’

‘Well, it’s my chest,’ he said, trying to spit the words out as quickly as possible. Even though they’d spoken about this, even although he knew she knew what he was going to say already, a tendril of humiliation still snuck through him.

‘What about it?’

‘It’s… well, it’s odd. I seem to be… well… I seem to be lactating.’

‘I see,’ she said, looking him up and down. ‘I assume there’s no chance of pregnancy?’

‘No, I mean, I don’t really have the right plumbing.’ To his embarrassment he let out a ridiculous stangled laugh.

Yennefer simply looked at him until he flushed and bowed his head.

‘So, I am to understand that you are a male, with a penis and testicles and you have begun experiencing lactation?’ she asked.

He felt a burst of embarrassed arousal at the clinical way she discussed his body. He nodded at her, temporarily unable to find words.

‘Well, that is unusual. Perhaps this won’t be a complete waste of my time then. Take off your shirt and I’ll have a look.’

He had known he was going to be asked for this. He had specifically worn a soft, loose shirt that was easy to remove, just for this purpose. Yet, still his face burned as he undid his buttons and pulled the shirt over his head. He sat, twisting it in his hands. Yennefer looked down her nose at him.

‘Set it on the chair,’ she ordered, waving a hand at a low stool that sat by the bed.

He folded it carefully and set it down. She was kind enough not to call him on the fact that he was blatantly stalling for time. He felt suddenly too big for the room. He hunched over, trying to avoid Yennefer’s gaze. His chest ached lightly and there was a slight draft winding its way under the door making goosebumps shiver into life along his arms. Yennefer stepped closer to the bed and adjusted the thin pillow that lay at the top.

‘Lie down,’ she said. ‘Have you experienced any pain? Swelling? How often would you say you are discharging?’

He kicked his boots off and lay back on the bed. The sheet was cold and a little tacky under his back. It was surprisingly difficult to resist the urge to cross his arms across his chest. It was an incredibly vulnerable feeling, lying half-naked under Yennefer’s penetrating gaze. For all she was slight, she wasn’t a small woman and his position only emphasised her height.

‘They ache a little,’ he admitted. ‘They’re larger than they were, but there’s no lumps or anything. I need to discharge at least twice a day, but…’ he trailed off for a moment. ‘Sometimes they leak a little, in between,’ he whispered.

‘Hmm.’

She stepped closer to the edge of the bed, close enough that he could feel her warmth against his arm, even although she wasn’t touching him. He drew in a lungful of her scent, warm and feminine and overlaid by her characteristic perfume. It was familiar, but not particularly comforting. He had no expectation of her being kind.

Her hands were cold when she placed them on his chest. Her fingertips were like little points of ice that made him hiss in a breath through his teeth. She was unsympathetic. First, she palpated the skin around his collarbone, moving out towards his shoulders and down. She worked her way towards the soft mound on his chest and he groaned as she touched them. The coolness of her fingers felt good against the light ache of being overfull. She pressed, gently at first and then harder, and he watched as small beads of milk welled up.

She pressed her finger to one, sending and electric jolt through him, and then lifted it up. She smelled the liquid and rubbed it between her fingers.

‘You do, indeed, appear to be lactating,’ she said. ‘How odd.’

She returned her hands to his chest and pressed against the nipple. He groaned. She pinched it between two fingers and pulled. It did very little, other than causing his cock to begin filling in his breeches. She did something, changed the placement of her fingers in some way and tugged and Eskel felt the distinctive sensation of his milk letting down in a stream. He whimpered.

‘Doctor Vengerberg,’ he protested.

‘Hush. It is necessary for me to see exactly how your body reacts to stimulus in order to give you the most accurate diagnosis.’

Eskel rolled his shoulders against the sheet, which had quickly warmed to his body. He endured as she pinched and pulled and tugged and occasionally wiped up a stray drop of milk that threatened to get too near her neat sleeves. Otherwise, she left them to run down his chest and make a wet, sticky mess of his stomach. He breathed through it, trying desperately not to show how much it was affecting him, but there was no way she hadn’t noticed the tent he was pitching in his breeches. Every tug of her fingers felt like it went directly to his cock.

‘I believe I may have discovered the problem,’ she said eventually, standing back and staring down at him. ‘When was the last time you engaged in intercourse?’

‘Pardon?’ he squeaked. That wasn’t what he had expected her to say at all.

‘When was the last time you engaged in intercourse?’ she repeated, in a voice that implied she thought he was simple. ‘Have you ejaculated recently? Been fucked?’

The sound of the word ‘fucked’ in her perfect, calm voice nearly undid him, but he held it together long enough to answer.

‘It’s been… some time,’ he admitted. ‘Three months or so,’ he continued when she simply raised an eyebrow at him.

‘As I thought. You are putting your body under undue strain by not attending properly to your needs. It is expressing those needs to you in unconventional ways. I can cure this, but you must make sure to pay more attention to yourself in the future. I will need to drain the lactate and I will also need to stimulate the prostate in order to clear the build up of hormone that is causing this. Stand up and remove the rest of your clothes.’

His head spun with the technical terminology. He peeled himself off the bed and stood, ducking his shoulders and averting his eyes. Yennefer busied herself over by the shelves of medical supplies while he stripped out of his boots and breeches. He hesitated with his hands on the top of his underthings. It was ridiculous, but he didn’t want to take them off. It felt like clinging to his last little piece of safety.

‘It’s nothing I’ve not seen before,’ she called over. ‘Hurry up.’

He swallowed hard and slid them down his legs. He folded his trousers and placed them on top of his shirt. He paused for a second, then hid his underwear underneath, face painted red with shame. He’d thought he was long past any body modesty he’d once had, but now, for some reason, he felt keenly every little imperfection of his flesh. She was going to be looking at him. Worse, he knew she was going to see him.

She sauntered back over with two pieces of glassware and a tin in her hand. She looked him briefly up and down and put the things she was holding on the table.

‘Good. Now, I’m going to need you to bend over the bed.’

He stepped up to the bed and bent, so that his elbows were pressed into the tacky sheet and his arse was pointing up. He tried not to think about how stupid it must make him look to her.

‘Can you hold that position without allowing your chest to touch the bed?’ she asked. ‘If not, I will need you to adjust so that you can. It will damage the equipment if you do.’

He wriggled a little until he knew he could manage what he was asked. He locked his muscles and pressed down into his elbows, determined not to move, regardless of what she did to him. She reached over to the little table and picked up one of the glass things. It looked a little like one of their alchemy flasks, but not entirely. The bottom was a bulbous sphere which tapered into a narrow cylinder with a thick, round lip. She held it in front of his face.

‘I will attach these to your nipples in order to drain the lactate from your breasts,’ she explained. He flushed at hearing his chest referred to in such terms. ‘It should not hurt, but it may feel uncomfortable. If you experience pain at any point, it is imperative that you tell me at once. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ he mumbled into the silence.

‘Good. Now hold still.’

The glass was smooth and cold against his skin. She reached underneath him and rubbed at one nipple until it was standing at a stiff peak. Then she slipped the opening of the flask over it and held it in place. Her fingers flared briefly purple and he felt a tight suction as it adhered to him.

‘Do try not to dislodge it,’ she said flatly.

He understood the order for what it was and held still as she repeated the process on the other side. Once both were attached to her liking, he saw another brief flare of violet chaos and then he inadvertently moaned as they began milking him. He didn’t know how it was doing it and he didn’t much care either, but he could feel his milk let down as the suction increased and decreased rhythmically, pulling at his nipples and draining them into the empty spheres. He had never quite felt relief like it before.

‘Excellent,’ Yennefer said. ‘Those will drain your breasts. As they work, I will need to perform the prostate massage to release the build up of unnecessary hormones. It is liable to feel pleasurable. There is no need to be embarrassed if you become erect or even ejaculate. It is a perfectly natural reaction.’

He nodded, still a little distracted by the tugging sensation around his nipples. It felt almost like a mouth, latched on and drinking from him, except it was missing the warmth. Somehow that tiny bit of impersonality made it even better. He was so focused on that feeling that he flinched when Yennefer touched his thighs, encouraging him to spread his legs. Her finger brushed his hole, dragging something slick and silky over it to create a smooth glide. She rested it there for a moment as he consciously untensed his muscles. He wanted this and he trusted Yennefer, but having someone at his back when he had been forced into such a vulnerable position was terrifying. Especially knowing that she was looking at him. His cock twitched and her finger pressed forward. He choked on a groan. It felt so good. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her it had been a while. The Path had been long and hard that year and he’d been reduced to the company of his own hand for much longer than he really wanted to admit. The feeling of her pressing her long, slim finger into his most intimate place was a heady one.

She pressed gently for a moment longer, then began working her finger in and out, thrusting slowly. The drag of skin on slick skin lit up his nerves and he felt the tip of his cock begin to drool with precum. He felt the tightness beginning to ease, his body accepting the intrusion as pleasurable rather than something to be rejected. Once her finger was moving steadily inside him, she added a second, making him whine and push back against the stretch. She repeated the process of slow thrusting and stretching until he had relaxed enough to take them easily.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now, I will begin the prostate massage. Remember, you must stay still.’

He nodded. He had no intention of doing anything to disrupt the perfect pressure around his nipples. He’d never before considered them particularly sensitive, but ever since he’d started producing milk, the barest brush against them could get him hard. This focused suction was driving him insane. He wanted more. As Yennefer’s fingers pressed deeper inside, he got it. She crooked them and pulled, pressing forward and finding his prostate unerringly. A garbled noise of pleasure fell from his mouth without restraint as she pressed insistent circles into it.

The torment seemed to go on forever. The suction around his nipples was steady and predictable while the pressure on his prostate was constant but varied in both pressure and speed. He could feel his pulse in his cock, could feel it dribbling a puddle of precum onto the floor beneath him. He wanted to blush, wanted to hide his face and pretend nothing was happening, that he wasn’t getting off on a necessary medical procedure, but it was undeniable. It would have been easier if Yennefer were a less attractive physician, or if he were less pent up and desperate, but she was gorgeous and he needed. The pressure and pleasure built and built until all he could think of was the desperate ache between his legs and the hard press of her fingers deep inside. He could hear the constant dripping of his milk as it splashed into the collection device and it just spurred his pleasure higher. It was all he could do to stay still, to not give into the trembling of his limbs and fall forward or give into his instincts and thrust back, fucking himself on her fingers until he came. He had to do as he was told and hold still though.

In the end, it was inevitable. One hard press of Yennefer’s fingers, combined with a well timed increase in suction around his nipples and he was lost. His vision whited out in a flurry of sparks and he shouted, his muscles locking up as his cock emptied itself across the flagstones. Yennefer gentled him through it, one small hand pressing between his shoulders, the other continuing to finger him gently. She stopped pressing on his prostate, but left her fingers in his arse to give him something to clench on. As he started to come down he groaned at the feeling. Her fingers were so long and slim and competent. He loved watching her work with her hands, the purple of her magic sparking around them and limning them with light. It accentuated the delicate strength of them. He burned with the knowledge that her hands, hands that casually wielded the power to topple cities and burn empires, those hands were being turned to his pleasure. As the aftershocks of his orgasm rolled through him, he bent his head forward and panted.

‘There now,’ she said, ‘No doubt that will feel much better. Stay where you are for a moment and allow me to properly detach the lactation aids.’

She withdrew her fingers slowly and carefully and he heard her cross the room to the small basin and pour some water out. There was splashing as she cleaned her hands of the slick. He focused on following her movements to distract from the tugging on his chest that was slowly edging from pleasurable into painful on his oversensitised nipples. It didn’t take long before she was back by his side and the pressure ceased. She detached each one with another quick flare of chaos. They were around three quarters full with his milk, the white liquid sloshing slightly as she set them aside. He whimpered and reached one hand up to press at his chest. It was flatter now, no longer quite so full, but it was still tender and aching from the stretch.

‘You can get dressed again,’ Yennefer said, crossing to her desk.

He stood and began the process of putting his clothes back on. His underthings were first, covering his rapidly softening cock from her sharp gaze. As he redressed, she continued speaking.

‘It seems that the problem is slightly worse than expected. Your breasts are producing a large amount of lactate and your prostate was rather engorged. It is likely that you will require repeated treatments to deal with the issue. You should take care to drain your own breasts at least daily, if not twice daily and you should engage in frequent masturbation. I would like you to return again next week for a follow up appointment. I will assess your condition then, but it is likely that you will require at least one further prostate massage at that point. I would recommend that you take better care of your sexual health in future to prevent issues of this nature arising,’ she said, staring at him over the pile of papers she was looking at.

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ he mumbled.

‘Yes, quite. Now, off you go. I have other patients to see today.’

He nodded and let himself out, closing the door firmly behind him.

#keys writes #keys prompt fill #keys lactation cw #keys medical/examination kink cw #dead dove #dead dove: do not eat #yellow heart anon

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firelxdykatara · 3 years

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Reader anon here!

Hi it's been awhile, I hope you are doing well! I know I am! I have successfully bought more books and filled another shelf in my bookcase and it is just so satisfying to see! I have a shelf dedicated to each genre I like, so one shelf is just erotica and downright smut, while another is high fantasy/YA fantasy! Then at the bottom are my books on mythology and languages!

I am so proud of my collection 😩 and can't wait to get more books. That new book smell is just-🤌🏻

Do you like books that focus on romance or do you like books that focus on more mystery/conflict and have a good chuck of romance? For me, I like both!

Oh omg reader anon I am in awe at your organization skills akflgjhdkfjghdkjfgh

Right now my 'to be read' pile is a literal pile of books (well, multiple piles, but) scattered around my room and the living room and every once in a while I'll pick one up and actually start reading it (I recently started The Lunar Chronicles, in fact, and I'm already fully in love with Linh Cinder, best girl) and then sometimes I'll get halfway through and pick up another book and sdfklghdkfjhgkjdgh ANYWAY IT IS A WHOLE MESS IS WHAT I'M SAYING. I wish I could have an organized bookshelf but I ran out of space in mine ages ago and it is covered in yet more piles of books (though the ones on or around my shelves are mostly ones I've already read, although I've been eyeing Mistborn and The Wyrd Museum for a reread cause it's been so long, but I think if I started rereading old books right now my unread book piles would coalesce into an autonomous figure and beat me over the head with my own readerly ambition lmfao)

As for your question, honestly it really depends on the book! I absolutely love a good romance-focused narrative (emphasis on 'good', bodice rippers don't usually do it for me but sometimes when I'm in the mood I go to my mom's bookshelf and raid it for something cheap and tawdry (affectionate) that hits just the right button I need pressed at that moment, so y'know, it varies), but I also love books where the romance is incidental to the actual plot. In that case, though, I like it best when the romance and character arcs are woven into the plot rather than forcing the plot to conform to them, you know?

Like, I'll use the Grishaverse trilogy as an example here, because I've been rather hyperfixated on it and the extended world lately, but part of the problem I have with that series is that the romance the author clearly wants you to be invested in and root for at the end of the day is the most boring part of the entire story--and yet it quite literally warps the universe of the books around it to make it the most important part of the main character's journey.

You have a world on the brink of full-scale war where the main character has just discovered she is part of an oppressed minority group that are primed for literal annihilation--she is in the only country where her people can get even a pretense of agency and a fulfilling livelihood (Fjerda burns their witches, Shu-han vivisects them, Kerch sells them into slavery, and even in Ketterdam they aren't really safe unless they can make themselves useful enough to earn protection from one gang or another; the Wandering Isle and Novyi Zem may be the exceptions to the rule, but Fantasy Ireland and Fantasy Australia/Africa never matter enough to the story for any of the characters to find out), and yet even when she is suddenly a target for assassination purely because of what she is, there's never any real sense that she actually cares about Grisha as a whole.

Instead, the only thing she really cares about is her childhood romance. Getting back to Mal is the only thing that matters to her. The show tried to give her a little more agency (where in the books, she was pretty much just buffeted this way and that by the whims of the plot and very rarely made her own decisions about anything; and when she did, they were rarely based in any actual logic, and I say this as someone currently forcing my way through the books so that I can more accurately critique them.... it is intensely aggravating as a reader lmao), but they couldn't change the plot too much, so she winds up coming across as even more stupid than in the source material. And still, Mal and the meadow is a constant refrain, for reasons that, as far as I can tell, are never actually explained beyond 'these two kids traumabonded over their experiences growing up in an orphanage in a war-torn country, and they are dangerously codependent as a result'.

In order for the books to end as they do, Alina can't actually give a shit about the plot going on around her. The romance completely overrides the sense that anything else in this world matters, and when the romance is the most boring part of the plot, focusing on it to the exclusion of all else just makes the entire thing fall flatter than a house of cards in a stiff breeze. And that's the kind of romance I usually don't like--which gets thrown into much sharper relief when you go over to Six of Crows and find romances that actually work with the characters and the world and the plot surrounding them, rather than against it.

So that said, tl;dr: I like both too! But if the narrative is going to be romance-focused, then that romance needs to not be the least interesting part of the plot (traumabonded childhood friends to lovers working through that pain and coming out the other side healthier and happier for it can work really well, if you haven't plopped them in the middle of a world and plot that is much more interesting when they are apart), and if the romance is secondary to the plot, then it needs to take a proper back seat and work with the characters and their individual arcs as they move through the world, rather than attempting to force the plot into a different shape so the romance can work.

#reader anon #asked #grishaverse salt #malina salt #anti malina #just in case

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gstqaobc · 3 years

Text

FROM THE MONARCHIST LEAGUE OF CANADA

As this Ecomm went to publication, we received word of the death, at the great age of 96, of Bill Silver, a significant benefactor of the League from its early days, and for many years a pillar of our Ottawa Branch. We wished to remember him here: his ebullient spirit, fierce loyalty spoken gently, innate modesty and kindness. Indeed Chaucer might have had forethought of Bill in describing one of his characters as a “very parfitt gentle knight.” May his ardent spirit rest in peace, and his memory be a blessing and example to us all. LEAGUE ISSUES NEW FLYER: THE CASE FOR THE CROWN The League thought it timely and useful to issue, offer in its advertising and distribute as widely as possible - both via the website and in printed form - a new flyer which will give you, our members, ammunition to argue logically the case for the Crown in conversation with others, and, we hope, to distribute strategically. One never knows when such an item, left on a waiting room table at the doctor or dentist’s office, affixed to a supermarket or other community bulletin board, put through neighbours’ mail slots - the possibilities are many - will do good work for our cause. We hope you will both enjoy and profit from this item, and that many thousands will be distributed across the country. See item one in the WHAT CAN I DO FOR THE CANADIAN CROWN? section of this Ecomm, below, to read online and request printed copies. And special thanks to our wonderful team of no less than seven translators, all francophones from La Belle Province, who so kindly volunteered to make the French version one that is accurate in expression and eloquent in its prose. WHAT CAN I DO FOR THE CANADIAN CROWN? Some suggestions for member activity during these times. We invite members to send additional ideas by return of email. 1. How about asking the League to send you several print copies of our new flyer: THE CASE FOR THE CROWN, or print them on your home computer: https://www.monarchist.ca/index.php/publications and give them to others who may be unaware or sceptical of the importance of Canada’s constitutional monarchy, or even hostile to it. School teachers could be encouraged to read the League’s educational booklets, also available both online and in print at the same URL, or even to request a class set. 2. When you read an editorial, opinion column or letter to the editor in a newspaper, or a tweet or Facebook post, critical of the Crown, don’t get mad - get even! In other words, use a temperate tone and logical argument to refute the writer’s attack. Keep it brief: focus on the obvious flaws in reasoning, mis-statements of fact or name-calling substituting for logic. Same goes for radio talk shows. In the long run, on all media, whatever the provocation, whatever the momentary satisfaction of ”giving them a piece of my mind” - an old adage remains true: “You catch more flies with honey.” 3. Write your elected representative at the federal level to re-state briefly the reasons you support constitutional monarchy as our system of government, and asking the MP whether not your view is shared. 4. Once pandemic restrictions ease, try to make sure that Royal events - such as the upcoming 95th birthday of our Queen, 10th Wedding Anniversary of William and Catherine or 100th birthday of Prince Philip are celebrated both in your home but also among your wider family, your friends, your colleagues at the office, your place of worship/faith community or service club. The League generally sends you some ideas to mark these celebrations. Remember, as they are incorporated into family life and public life, the Crown becomes further embedded in the heart of the nation, and truly represents The Queen’s wish that it ”reflects all that is best and most admired in the Canadian ideal.” This is especially true when you go out of your way to include in your observance the newest members of our Canadian family, who generally are eager to participate in the traditions of their new homeland, and in turn to share their own traditions with the wider community. 5. Always use a Queen stamp when you write a letter or pay a bill by mail. 6. At events of ceremony, whether a Council meeting, a graduation, a civic celebration - whatever - make sure that the Royal Anthem is sung as well as the National Anthem. To the extent you can, discourage event organizers from having a soloist “perform” them. Far more pride and learning develop from the untrained voices of loyal folk singing together. In that way, the Anthems are sung “with heart and voice” and not merely listened to. A FINAL IDEA: AN ACT OF LOVING SUPPORT & THANKS Apart from the above, we think it would be enormously comforting and supportive for every one of us to write a kind letter to The Queen, expressing your thoughts at a difficult time: her beloved husband ailing, a grand-child chiding other family members via sensational television, the drumbeat of the tabloids and the restrictions on her busy life caused by the pandemic. A selection of letters, especially those from Commonwealth Realms, are indeed seen by The Queen - and their number and tone are summarized to Her Majesty. The address is - Her Majesty The Queen, Buckingham Palace, London SW1A 1AA, UK Theoretically you don’t need postage to write the Sovereign; in practice, it is safer to affix the international airmail stamp available from your local Canada Post outlet. AN INTERESTING OPINION PIECE FROM TODAY’S DAILY TELEGRAPHWe thought you might be interested to see the following strongly-worded opinion piece, reflecting a good deal of the tone of recent British public opinion, rather different from much of the Canadian and US commentary. Meghan’s fake interview has real-world effects The Sussexes’ claims have undermined the monarchy and done lasting damage to the Commonwealth by Tim Stanley, March 15, 2021 Two headlines appeared on the BBC News website on the same day. At the top: “Harry and Meghan rattle monarchy’s gilded cage”. At the bottom: “The kidnapped woman who defied Boko Haram”. Well, that puts the Sussexes' problems in perspective, doesn’t it? Yet across Africa, one reads, the Duchess’s story has revived memories of colonial racism, tarnishing the UK’s reputation, and has even lent weight to the campaign in some countries to drop the Queen as head of state. The only nation that seems to think a lot of nonsense was spoken is Britain. In the wake of an interview that Joe Biden’s administration called courageous, British popular opinion of Harry and Meghan fell to an all-time low, and the American format had a lot to do with it. Oprah Winfrey is not our idea of an interviewer. She flattered, fawned and displayed utter credulity. Imagine if it had been her, not Emily Maitlis, who interviewed Prince Andrew over the Jeffrey Epstein allegations. “You were in a Pizza Express that day? Oh my God, you MUST be innocent! Tell me, in all honesty, though...did you have the dough balls?” This wasn’t an interview, it was a commercial for a brand called Sussex, a pair of eco-friendly aristo-dolls that, if you pull the string, tell their truth – which isn’t the truth, because no one can entirely know that, but truth as they perceive it. “Life is about storytelling,” explained Meghan, “about the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we’re told, what we buy into.” Meghan is a postmodernist. Just as Jean Baudrillard said the Gulf War never happened, but was choreographed by the US media, so the Royal narrative she was forced to live was fake, her public happiness was fake and, following that logic, this interview might involve an element of performance, too. People have challenged her claims, alleging contradictions and improbabilities, but one of the malign effects of wokeness is that you have got to be very careful about pointing this out. Why? Because wokery insists on treating a subjective view as objective truth, or even as superior, because it’s based upon “lived experience”. To contradict that personal perspective is perceived as cruel, elitist and, in Meghan’s case, potentially racist, so it’s best to wait a few weeks to a year before applying a fact check. In the meantime, affect sympathy. People would rather you lied to their face than tell them what they don’t want to hear. The result is profoundly dishonest, for I have never known an event over which there is such a gulf between the official reception, as endorsed by the media and politics, and the reaction of average citizens, who are wisely keeping it to themselves. Into that vacuum of silence steps not the voice of reason but bullies and showmen – like Piers Morgan, who said some brash stuff about Meghan’s honesty and, after an unseemly row on Good Morning Britain, felt obliged to resign from his job. “If you’d like to show your support for me,” he wrote afterwards, “please order a copy of my book.” Dear Lord, was this row fake, too? I can no longer be sure, though I despised Good Morning Britain before and still do: it embodies the cynical confusion of emotion and fact, a show made for clicks, where even the weatherman has an opinion. So what is real in 2021? The Commonwealth, which does a lot of good in a divided world. The monarchy, which has been at its best during the pandemic, doing the boring stuff of cutting ribbons and thanking workers that, one suspects, Meghan never grew into (can you imagine her opening a supermarket in Beccles?). It contains flawed people, but that only adds to its realness, and they can adapt faster than you might think. Prince William got the ball rolling by telling reporters, who he is trained to ignore, that his family is not racist. His wife paid her respects to the murder victim Sarah Everard, demonstrating that she is neither cold nor silenced. I’d wager Kate does her duty, day after day, no complaint, not because she is “trapped”, as Harry uncharitably put it, but because she loves her family and believes in public service. Meghan and Harry have indeed prompted the Royal family to change: not in order to endorse their criticisms, however, but to answer them.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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undyingsunshine · 3 years

Note

YESSSSS YOU’RE BACK AND TAKING ASKS

14 and 15 for the most recent post, and I’m gonna come back with more too

Here we go!!!!

14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

Honestly, it usually differs from piece to piece! Usually, though, the title comes last! (Though I do have a short list of potential titles for Li Cu fics stored away, most of which are just lyrics from songs xD Whether I end up using them or not, only time will tell!)

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

All of these tend to give me a bit of trouble xD if I was to rank from hardest to easiest however, I think I'd say titles are the hardest and tags tend to be the easiest. For summaries I usually just slap a portion of the fic in and then add a small almost-summary below it, mostly because I feel like giving a sample of the fic will be more effective than trying to give a succinct description? Kind of shows you what you're getting into before you've even clicked xD

Titles, I use a lot of lyrics from songs, especially ones that I think fit with the character. Though, this does sometimes mean my titles are... long and it can make it a little awkward when trying to talk about the fics themselves. xD

Examples include;

"Come with me, I promise the water is fine..." Which is a lyric from God Bless Eric Taylor by Marietta, a song that I relate to Li Cu somewhat.

This next one is the title of a chapter instead of a whole fic, but I'll count it anyway xD Chapter 2 of I'm Here is titled: "I have this dream that I'm hitting my dad with a baseball bat and he is screaming and crying for help..." which is from the song Father by The Front Bottoms.

I ideally try to make it so that the lyrics also match up with the contents of the chapter/fic. I'm Here's second chapter is all about Li Cu's nightmares, so I thought the title would be pretty fitting xD Honestly, thinking back maybe I could've added more types of dreams.... Ones that fit that title even more.... Small rewrite of that Chapter perhaps? I don't think it would be that different, but still... Would add more angst onto everything xD

The title for "Come with me..." Also sort of relates to the contents of the fic, but moreso in the following line that appears in the summary: "I need something else to comvince me I won't die."

Honestly these lines could have me ranting a whole lot, especially in relation to Li Cu. Just makes me think of all his conflicted feelings, and how he must feel when he drags his friends into the mess he didn't even make. (And these feeling really would increase after Su Wan blames him for the snake bite and getting Shen Qiong inveolved, and during just... the entirety of the time he, Yang Hao, Su Wan and Liang Wan are in the desert together. (ESPECIALLY when Yang Hao is being absolutely mistreated by the 9 families, like sheesh.)

It's just a whole lot of guilt, but also maybe some stubborn determination? Li Cu is very adamant on living just to spit in the face of everyone around him. Existing out of pure spite, but with friends involved, it's more like he's existing to fulfil a purpose? One that he feels like he's bestowed upon himself. Not Wu Xie, or Rishan, or anyone. Just him. He stays alive so he can protect his friends. He'll keep them safe, he'll get them home alive. He has to. And he knows that he will. Or else, what is he even persevering for? "I need something to convince me I won't die." In the fic, this could also be referring to Wu Xie, as he kind of marks safety by the end of the drama. Wu Xie being there means it's okay. It means he doesn't have to fight anymore. And in the fic, it also means that Li Cu can let go. Of Everything. Permanently. (I have so many branching ideas based on that 300 word demon of a fic, you wouldn't even believe)

ANYWAY I'LL STOP RANTING ABT THAT FIC MAYBE I'LL TALK ABOUT THAT FIC MORE IN DEPTH SOME OTHER TIME IF PPL WANT IT.

As for tags, I struggle mostly because I never know what's okay to tag? I'm afraid of tagging a fic with something if the content of that particular tag doesn't show up all that much in the fic? Unless it's something that's a potnential trigger, and then I'll tag it, even if it's small. Just ot be safe. But like. Characters, I don't tag unless they're actually there and present and doing something. If they're mentioned, I tend to not tag them since it's not all that crucial? For people to know they show up for a second? Idk, I like to be as succinct and precise as possible with my tags, because I know how annoying it is for tags to be clogged or for fics to have too many tags xD

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

I have a few, surprisingly! I'll choose two, both from the second chapter of I'm Here!

"Each one makes him wake up, terrified and shaky and wanting to hide or just outright stop existing; to become intangible, untouchable, safe. Of course, he can't actually do that, so instead he pushes the fear down and suffocates it before burying it in the backyard of his mind in the hopes it'll never be dug up again."

Something I try and do while writing is find ways to explain how I. Just. Experience life? (This is also present in Chapter 1 with the line "Further frustration gathered in his chest, making it tighten with stress before it shot up into his throat". Just little things that I've never really seen in words before? That I feel but never know how to accurately describe.) There's always the whole "let the void swallow me/him/her/them whole" thing in media that I love because, honestly, mood. But I guess for this I just wanted to word it differently? In the way I felt was most accurate to myself. Just to be in a state of which nothing can get you, be it life or that one imaginary demon that you sometimes think is lurking around the house at the convenient time of 3 AM, Y'know? When real life becomes TOO real and you just want to blip out for a second, just pause everything and have a moment to be free of everything xD

I also just kind of like the metaphor(?) with his fear. Trust Li Cu to not only associate feelings with violence, but also treat his feelings violently xD I feel like I'm not the best when it comes to imagery and creative expression, especially through words. I point out the obvious, the facts, a lot, both when speaking normally and in writing, and it takes a bit of time for me to remember that I'm writing a story and not jotting a list of events xD So anytime I actually come up with something more kind of creatively written, I feel particularly happy with myself.

"He can't even fully comprehend what's been going on - everything feels bizarre and just out of reach, moreso than usual - but what he does know is that Wu Xie is here and he's angry. The man stands above Li Cu, his cold calculating eyes burning him with wordless accusations that, despite their ambiguity, feel justified. There's guilt, desperation and denial crashing inside him like waves assaulting a rickety raft on a stormy sea. What these feelings are for, he doesn't know. It makes him want to plead for forgiveness all the same."

Let's be honest, Li Cu probably has way too many mixed feelings on Wu Xie. The man who simultaneously built him up and destroyed him. The man who caused him agony, but is also probably one of the best things to come into Li Cu's life??? Like damn, I think I'd be pretty conflicted if I was Li Cu. And things only get worse when, in this fic's timeline, Wu Xie essentially ghosts Li Cu out of guilt for what he did to the kid. This is taken wrong by Li Cu, and he ends up feeling abandoned. By his own kidnapper. I just feel like this snippet is pretty okay at capturing all the blame he puts onto himself, and captures some of the trauma that comes with the events of Sha Hai as well. I just kind of like how this paragraph turned out in the end. xD

6. What character do you have the most fun writing

LI CU!!! Absolutely Li Cu. I don't know exactly what it is but it just. Clicks with me? Or at least the version I write of himd does, it's probably not even close to Li Cu's canon portrayal xD Maybe it's because of the fact that I'm also an angsty, angry 19 year old that I feel as such? It's much easier to put myself in the mind of a teenage boy rather than a 40 year old man xD In terms of non DMBJ writings, I have OCs that I love writing for! Funnily enough, one is an angsty 19 year old boy with a lot of self-worth issues (ringing any bells?) and the other is an angry, confused and conflicted character that was modified to be a kind of living weapon, but had since escaped and repressed all their memories of what happened. Though, the memories eventually start to resurface and they begin to question themself a whole lot, with flashbacks haunting the corners of their mind and driving them deeper and deeper into guilt-filled despair.

In general, angsty characters with a lot of conflicted emotions are super fun to write for! To flicker around from thought to thought and dive into all the hidden feelings that a character can have. It's just super enjoyable for me xD

#writing this while also writing an essay #it's helping me turn those rusty head gears #i feel like i can finally write things again xD #THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS SIERRA! I hope my answers were satisfactory!! xD #i think i went way too off-topic with some of these but honestly when do i ever stay on topic????#ask game #undying prattle #ramblerambleramble #miiiight edit this tomorrow to make it more comprehensible #but for now you can have this mess of a post xD

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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years

Text

Otomate Party 2019 Piofiore no Banshou: December 31, 1925 drama

So... I ended up translating this as a favour owed to someone who I got to borrow a switch from before I got my own. Haven’t actually played piofiore so I might have used different words for the chars as opposed to what’s in the game (please tell me if you think something should be changed since I strive to match the game text).

This is likely going to be the only piofiore translation i do since I found nothing aside from some of the stories that came from a store bonus booklet which ended up being translated and put in to copy-able text that I could read.... and I have no interest in going further out of my way to hurt my hand by writing out the text from any more dramas from a fandom I don’t really have any interest in... as I already did so for this.

anyway, I translate from Chinese into English so this may not be 100% accurate. the video for this has now been moved to my private blog.

Piofiore no Banshou: December 31, 1925

Translation by KumoriYami

Nicola: no one's here yet, though this is definitely the agreed upon time. Well, it is New Year's Eve today. If no one comes after midnight, I'll just head back.

(door creaks open)

Gilbert: ~hums~ haha yo, nicola!

Nicola: Hello, that really was quite an entrance, Gilbert. Have you been drinking?

Gilbert: I haven't/No [check audio], I just recently met interesting man at a/the bar who dreams of going to the moon. It was incredible, like we weren't strangers at all.

(door creaks open)

Yang: What, surprisingly no on is here yet, and it seems that I'm early.

Gilbrt: Noo, you're totally late, late at the clock, Yang.

Yang: In any case you were also late, Redford

Nicola: Can you stop being late all the/every time?

Yang: As always, you have such a strong sense of time, Francesca. Are you really from this country?

Nicola: How rude. My family is of pure Italian descent, regardless of how far many generations back you go/regardless of how far back you go.

Gilbert: Ah, what happened to Dante? I don't see him.

Nicola: Ah, Dante, he was taken by our consultant.

Gilbert: Does that mean he'll be arriving late?

Nicola: Drinking to much— it'll cause a certain .... you understand?

Gilbert: That's true, although that hasn't been exaggerated/that's no exaggeration, the situation still hasn't reached that staged.

Yang: Ha......This is terrible. Why is it that on the last day of the year I must see a man's face/Why do I have to see a man's face until the end of the last day of the year?

Nicola: That's what I should be saying. Well, it was pretty nice to say hello to that child anyway.

Yang: As expected of Francesca, you're simply full of impure motives/bad ideas/have/are a collection of bad ideas.

Nicola: Yang [check audio might have written name down incorrectly], can you say that to me/do you have the right to say that to me?

Yang: I'll be taking that woman/That woman will brought back by me anyway so you should give up.

Gilbert: What are you saying, Yang. Also no one asked for your opinion.

Nicola: That's right, that child isn't yours.

Gilbert: Right, just as Nicola says, she's interested in me, so don't do anything unnecessary.

Nicola: That's right, she's Gilbert's— eh?

Gilbert: eh?

Nicola: Who do you think is interested in whom?

Gilbrt: Ahaha, don't make me repeat this since I'll feel embarrassed. She's already to go out on a date with me.

The two of us went to a gelato store overlooking the coast/sea...

Nicola: Isn't that just eating gelato in the same place? You can't be certain that she's interested in you.

Gilbert: Oh? What's wrong? Are you jealous/feeling bitter? Nicola.

(Yang’s VA starts walking away)

Nicola: For adults on a date to actually go to a gelato store [parlour] by the ocean, it's completely tasteless with zero sense of sentiment involved.

Yang: Hm...

Nicola: By the way, last week that child and I enjoyed an evening at a nice and stylish bar.

gilbert. Oh.

Yang: ah, there's a split end

Gilbert: Ha! Isn't that just inviting someone to a simple dinner?

I mean, she's also lived at my home.

Nicola: That was since she couldn't do anything about it after you begged her, and was only pressured into do so.

Right! Before that, she specifically made me some desserts as a consolation.

Giilbert: That wasn't just for you. It was for Dante and Leo.

nicola: keh

Yang: Ah, I don't know when a scratch got onto the pipe.

gilbert: [Anyway?] Yang!

Yang!

Yang: What.

Gilbert: Why aren't you showing any interest in this?

Yang: Because it's extremely boring, and I can't help it.

Besides, even if you want to argue

Wouldn't it be hard for you both to compete with me, who has already slept in that woman's room?

Nicola: eh, eh, ha, eh—?

Yang: I slept there.

nicola: eh?

Yang: The bed in that room was so bad, it's not even worth mentioning.

Nicola: [you know that] Using force is a crime/Used force to commit a crime? Yang.

Gilbert: Ah, wai-wait, wait, hold it, Nicola.

That guy literally broke into her room without permission and slept there, that's all!

Nicola: Even though that was an unsuccessful attempt, wouldn't it be better to send him off here? In order to ensure her safety.

Gilbert: No, why are you always so quick to anger /why do you have such a short temper becomes so low when Yang is involved

Yang: che, how boring. In the end though, what's wrong? A man who makes a woman wait isn't a man, is he?

Gilbert: No, no, she's not waiting for you.

Nicola: nn, she's waiting for me.

Gilbert: No, no, that's also not right.

Yang: It's a pity, but I'm still the one who makes that woman most happy.

Nicola: If you don't want to compete, why don't you go back? Gilbert?

Gilbert: Ngh... Really, why are you bothersome.

Of course my desire to touch her is no less than how much you want tooooooooo

Nicolata: Gilbert, what the hell are you trying/asserting—

Ah, you, since when were you over there?

Yang: I see, it's no wonder why someone's gaze could be felt from the start of this until now

Gilbert: No, if you noticed, say something earlier, Yang!

Yang: So when did you start eavesdropping?

Nicola: from the very beginning, everything....

Gilbert: ...if it's true, there's no way around it

Nicola: Eh, wait, Gilbert?

Gilbert: When I see you smile, my heart becomes heated.

I want to touch you, and to hold you, regardless of where

Of course, even now.

I sincerely mean this.

Although we're only friends right now, I truly would like to have a special relationship with you one day

From now on, I will ask that you please be aware of my feelings.

Nicola: hey, hey, wa-wait a moment, Gilbert, why are you suddenly talking about love?

Gilbert: Hm? What's so strange about that?

yang: I think the the development just now was a little strange.

Gilbert: I didn't say these words as a joke.

I want to tell people what I truly feel, and to the woman I love -

nicola: I don't think those are words that can be excused/forgiven for such a reason. You see, she also—

Huh?

yang: ...You have a somewhat approving mood to this/You’re slightly receptive to this?

Gilbert: You see, a man needs to be honest, remember that well

Yang: Thanks for your guidance, so what will you be doing? Francesca.

Nicola: What's going on?/What?

Yang: Do you want Redford to enjoy himself? Why don't you say one or two passionate words of courtship?

Nicola: Aren't you clearing enjoying the excitement/this?

Gilbert: Hehe! Don't force it, Nicola. Even you aren't able to love in the way I do.

Yang: What, Francesca? Are you not going to say anything?

Nicola: When it comes to that, I naturally also have feelings I want to convey

I think I'm messing around with you to some extent, but aren’t you always messing around with me?

I shouldn't be taking this seriously, and I understand that from the bottom of my heart.

I'm in the Mafia, and you're an ordinary girl.

There are countless reasons I can list for why we can't be together

even so, this is a real headache/dilemma.

For the first time, whenever I'm in your presence, I can't do what I want.

I love you, signorina.

Gilbert: Oh. Eh. Th-Th-That reaction was quite intense, so.. what will you do? Between myself and Nicola, who do you want to choose?

Yang: there's no need to ask such a question, Redford. Because that woman is already mine/my thing from the start.

Nicola: But I don't think any girl would choose a savage man like Yang?

Yang: Whatever you say. Fine. I'll accept your provocation.

Oi, you, become my woman.

Gilbert: Why would you start with something so thoughtless...

Nicola: I'd doubt your common sense, though there never was any common sense in Yang's dictionary in the first place/though, in the first place, there never was any common sense in your dictionary, Yang [check audio].

Yang: Shut up, don't interrupt me.

I hate cheap women who grovel, and having said that, it goes without saying that women who show fear are also boring.

I'd kill women who bore me, so you should actually look forward to it/this.

Perhaps you'll be a good toy to stop me from being bored.

How is that? If you come to my side, you will have a taste of a whole new world.

Should I take you back now and show you what it's like?

Adult games, that kind of stuff—

Nicola: okay okay okay, stop there!

Gilbert: On top of that, we can't go further than that/that's not going to work

nicola?: eh?

Gilbert: Would you have already been stabbed if Orlok was here?

Nicola: He'd/It'd be very nice if he went home.

Yang: Hah... what a noisy bunch. I'd have immediately brought her back if i knew it'd be like this.

Sweet words are enough in bed—

Gilbert: That's enough, Yang.

Yang: What are you doing, let me go

Gilbert: Who's going to let you go. As soon as I l do that, you'll say something stupid.

No, [instead,] we really shouldn't have met on New Year's Eve.

Nicola: In the end, there was simply no time to talk about work. Let's wait for a new opportunity to find time to do so later.

Gilbert: Ah, that's fine. Goodbye, Nicola. Alright, you're going back Yang!

Yang: There's no helping it then. I'll go back for today, but next year, I will make you mine/my thing [东西 is usually translated into "thing' or "stuff" in chinese... tho from what i’ve read, i kinda thing "toy" would work? might just leave it at 'mine'].

Gilbert: Ah, that's enough!

Nicola: okay okay, buon anno, have a good new year~

On this street [alt: district? check gameplay videos], we welcomed a peaceful day.

But as members of the mafia, a hated and loathed existence, this peace [of ours/now] will not last forever.

In a few moments the new year will be here. It will surely have trials that that haven't been thought of.

But, I will protect you until the very end.

(bell starts ringing)

Ah, it's here, the new year

1926, it's about to start—

-----end -----

images cut from video of the 2020 otomate new title party tho this drama was originally from the 2019 otomate party... i think?

#piofiore #piofiore: fated memories #otomate party #piofiore no banshou

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all-things-skam · 4 years

Text

Jens’ season | Chapter six

Saturday, February 8th

‘’Where’s your other half?’’ Jens teased, seeing no Sander trailing behind his best friend.

Robbe shook his head and hid his smile. ‘’He’s having lunch with his mom.’’

‘’Oh, so that’s why you came here? Because loverboy had to leave your side?’’

‘’That’s not-’’

‘’I’m kidding,’’ Jens said, grinning. He grabbed a controller from the desk and nodded at the television. ‘’Wanna game?’’

Robbe nodded and grabbed the second controller while Jens set up the console.

Jens knew there was a reason behind Robbe’s impromptu Saturday visit, but Robbe didn't seem to know how to bring up the subject.

After sitting in silence, for what felt like forever, with nothing but the beeps from the game, Robbe finally spoke. ‘’Sorry about last night, again,’’ he apologized, blush covering his cheeks and ears. ‘’I...didn’t mean to-’’

Jens shook his head. ‘’It’s okay, Robbe.’’

‘’Wanna talk about it?’’

‘’What is there to talk about?’’

‘’Why didn’t you tell me? About Lucas.’’

‘’Why do I have to tell? It’s not anyone’s business.’’

‘’Coming out of the closet is a part of the journey, Jens.’’

‘’I’m not in a closet. I-I’m not ashamed of who I am.’’

Robbe recoiled just a bit at the comment and Jens instantly regretted it. Shit. He didn’t mean to dig at Robbe. It was the last thing he wanted, knowing how difficult Robbe’s self acceptance had been.

He just meant that his situation wasn’t the same as Robbe’s - they couldn't compare. Everyone's experience is different, not everyone reacts to their sexual awakening the same. For some, realizing that their sexuality might differ from the society's common basket was hard to accept.

Jens paused, trying to find his next words carefully.

How to explain his situation to his best friend without diminishing his own experience?

‘’To me, it doesn’t matter who I’m attracted to. If it’s a girl that catches my eyes, then it’s a girl and, until recently, if it’s a boy, it’s a boy. Simple as that.’’

Robbe frowned. ‘’So...you still like girls?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’You’re bisexual, then?’’

Jens thought for a minute. Labels were tacky and invasive - he didn't like them. One's sexual preferences was nobody's business but theirs. But, if he really had to chose one, bisexual would be the most accurate.

‘’Yeah. I guess that’s what I am.’’

“How long have you known? That you also liked guys, I mean.”

“Ever since you told me that you liked Sander and not me.”

The controller hit the floor and Robbes mouth dropped open. Jens burst out laughing.

“Dude, I’m joking. It’s really been since I saw Lucas on the first day of school after break. I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, but he was certainly easy on the eyes.”

The memory of Lucas walking in the courtyard came rushing back, hands in his pockets, curly fringe shadowing over his forehead, golden from the sun shining on them. His sharp jawbone and bright eyes had caught Jens' attention immediately.

“So, have you guys been together long?”

Jens glared at Robbe with a slight annoyance. “What is this? 20 questions?”

“You did the same to me once you found out about Sander, so this is just payback,” the brunet defended. ‘’And, can’t I be interested in my best friend's love life? I don’t want you to leave me in the unknown like I did.’’

Jens let out a sigh, admitting his past doing. Maybe he could answer some of Robbe’s question - just to satisfy his curiosity.

“It’s only been since Amber’s birthday party.”

“Jens, that was like almost a month ago.”

The raven haired boy shrugged. He didn't mean to let Robbe in the dark about Lucas. At least, not forever. But, sometimes, it's nice to keep your little happinesses to yourself.

‘’So,’’ Robbe started, a mischievous smile curling on his lips. ‘’Is Lucas your boyfriend?’’

Jens shrugged, honestly. He hadn’t thought about that yet. ‘’I don’t know… We haven’t talked about it yet.’’

“Well you might want to have that conversation soon since Valentine's Day is Friday, and you will need to know if you and your boyfriend are doing anything special,” Robbe teased.

With everything else going on, Jens had completely forgotten about Valentine's Day. It hadn’t been a problem in the past. Jana always made sure to remind him that it was coming, but now that he was single, Valentine’s Day wasn’t something Jens had to think about.

Groaning, Jens fell back on his bed. “Shit, what am I going to do now?”

Robbe shrugged. ‘’I don’t know, but, next time, lock the door.’’

Jens laughed. ‘’Will do.’’

Sunday, February 9th

The rain pouring outside had caused the cancellation of all the parties, obligating the teenagers to stay home and find other activities to occupy their Saturday night. Robbe and Aaron quickly made plans with their respective lovers, leaving Moyo and Jens to play Fortnite from each other’s room.

Despite being Saturday night, Jens had planned to go to bed soon. His beauty sleep had taken a toll lately because of his parents’ late night fights and he could feel himself falling asleep during the game.

He was about to tell Moyo he was off to bed when he heard commotion from downstairs, followed by slurred grumblings.

Oh no...

Jens sighed and checked the time on his phone: 1am. His dad must’ve come back from wherever he was and, guessing by the noises downstairs, it must’ve been the bar - or anywhere he could get alcohol.

Lucky for him, Lotte and Fenna weren’t home to see this. Jens’ mom had been clear about no more coming home drunk. Jens could cover for his dad, put him to bed and act like nothing happened in the morning, but he didn’t want to. Not tonight.

Jens: I know it’s late...but can I crash at your place? My dad came home drunk and I don’t want to deal with it tonight

Minutes passed and there was no response from Lucas. Jens was getting worried he’d have to stay here and that Lucas was asleep, but it was the weekend. No one goes to bed early on Saturday night, right? Well, Sunday, now.

Lucas: Always ❤

After getting Lucas’ response, Jens put on his shoes and rain jacket and slipped out of the house, walking to where he remembered Lucas’ house was.

He felt shitty for letting his mom deal with the casualties in the morning when she’d get back from her night shift, but Jens needed a break. And a good night of sleep without any interruptions. If he stayed home, he’d have to take care of his drunk father and he wouldn’t be able to catch up on sleep.

The lights were all off on Lucas’s street, everyone most likely asleep at this hour. Jens knocked on the door and waited for the Dutch boy to answer and open.

A sleepy Lucas opened the door, hair matted from sleeping on one side. He was wearing a white sleeping shirt, thin and worn out, bringing out the blue of his eyes.

''Sorry for coming here this late,'' Jens apologized, seeing Lucas's sleepy face. He glanced down, chewing on his bottom lip. ''I didn’t mean to wake you-’’

‘’It’s okay.’’ Lucas shrugged. '’I fell asleep on the couch watching TV, it’s nothing.’’ The brunet stepped back, making room for Jens to get inside. ‘’Come in.’’

The house was smaller than Jens’ and had a lot less furniture. Most of which had probably been left in Utrecht, at Lucas’ mom’s house. They passed by the living room and Lucas turned off the television, the cartoons still playing turning black. He led Jens to his room and closed the door.

A small lamp on Lucas’ nightstand lit the place dimly, enough for Jens to make out the unpacked boxes still on the floor, left there for when Lucas will feel like putting them away - which wasn’t anytime soon. There was a couple pictures taped on the wall by Lucas’ bed, some Jens recognized from the brunet’s Instagram. Lucas’ backpack was laying on the floor, textbooks spilling out right next to his desk.

‘’Do you need anything to sleep in?’’ Lucas asked, pulling Jens from his visual exploring.

He shook his head, twisting on his heels to face Lucas, and chuckled. ‘’I don’t think anything will fit me anyway.’’

‘’Right,’’ he agreed, feeling like an idiot for asking.

Jens wasn’t bigger, but he was more built more squared than the Dutch boy - who was on the leaner side. Lucas’ tee shirts could fit him, but it would be tight around the shoulders and that wasn’t comfortable.

Standing in the middle of his own bedroom, Lucas didn’t know what to say after the personal bomb Jens had dropped on him over texts. It was the first time Jens had opened up to him, and he wanted to be supportive but he didn’t want to push him to talk either.

‘’Do you want to talk about it? Your dad.’’

Jens shook his head. ‘’Not tonight. I just want to sleep. Can we do that?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ Lucas nodded and went to the bed and sat.

He tidied the pillows and blankets, making room for the pretty boy who will spend the night with him, catching himself watching- staring as Jens peeled off his hoodie and jeans, leaving him in a tee shirt and underwear. There wasn’t anything creepy nor sexual, he just really liked looking at Jens’ body.

Jens sat on the bed beside Lucas, their legs brushing at how close they were, feeling the warmth of Lucas’ skin through his grey joggers. “Thanks for letting me come over,’’ he apologized. ‘’Again, I’m sorry if I woke you up-”

“Jens,’’ Lucas interrupted. He sighed, shaking his head. ‘’It’s okay. I told you if you needed to talk I’d be there. It’s nice to know you wanted to come here, to come to me,’’ he said, feeling like he was admitting more than what the words were saying.

“I know, it’s just... I don’t know. I’ve got a lot on my mind lately.” Jens sighed, hiding his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

Hesitantly, Lucas put his head on his shoulder, kissing Jens through his tee shirt.

‘’You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, you know?’’

Jens stared off into the distance of the semi-dark room. He wanted to open up to Lucas and tell him everything that was on his mind, but he didn’t want to dump all of his problems on him and taint his only source of happiness. Jens wanted to preserve his time with Lucas, happy and appeasing as possible, a stark contrast from every other aspect of his life he didn't have control over. By dumping all his home life problems on Lucas, Jens didn’t want to risk this feeling and was afraid he wouldn’t have anywhere else to get this happiness from.

They also only met about a month ago and it wouldn’t be fair to unload everything on him. Jens had never been one to rant about his problems. He’d share situations with his friends, light troubles, but would never lay out his dirty laundry to them - not that he had anything worth telling before.

‘’Shall we get some sleep now?’’ Lucas suggested, smoothing a hand down Jens’ back, sensing he wouldn’t get any words out of him tonight. It was okay, though. He’ll talk in his own time, when he’s ready.

Jens nodded. Sleep will be good. He needed a good sleep.

Lucas slid away from Jens and turned off the lamp, crawling back and taking the spot near the wall, trying to leave room for the raven haired boy. ‘’Little warning, my bed is a bit smaller than yours.’’

Shrugging, Jens joined Lucas higher on the bed, laying his head on the grey pillowcase. ‘’I’ll just hold you tighter,’’ he responded.

Content with Jens’ response, Lucas moved closer and rubbed his cold feet against Jens’ bare calves, tangling their legs together under the comforter. Jens lifted his arm in order to make room for Lucas to snuggle in close. He breathed in the sweet scent of Lucas' shampoo, soft curls tickling his chin.

Lucas talked quietly, telling Jens about that time he slept over at Kes' for the first time and had to call him mom in the middle of the night - okay, it was 9pm - because he couldn't sleep in another bed than his own. Jens laughed at the childhood anecdote. How could he not?

He listened as Lucas continued his story, allowing himself to finally relax. Lucas' voice was soothing and calm in the dark room.

Half way through the second story, Jens felt Lucas’ body become heavy with deep sleep. He glanced down, making out Lucas' delicate features in the darkness, and smiled.

He could easily get used to this.

Waking up next to Lucas was...warm. It’s been a moment since Jens last shared a bed and he had forgotten how hot you get through the night. Getting sweaty during the night from cuddling and being so close to another body was the only downside to sharing a bed. Other than that, it’s just perks.

Jens' eyebrow twitched, fighting away whatever had brushed it. He felt it again, the same feather light touch, descending on his face, tracing the bridge of his nose and then his lips. He scrunched his nose and heard a soft giggle very close to him.

His lips curved into a smile, remembering where he was. In Lucas' bed. With Lucas.

Jens' eyes started to flutter and he began to shift, for once pleased to wake up.

''Morning,'' Lucas said, his breath tickling Jens' neck as he spoke.

He had been waiting for Jens to wake up, trying to pull him from his deep sleep without waking him.

Jens hummed, eyes still closed. ‘’Slept like a baby.’’

‘’Clearly. It’s almost noon,’’ Lucas pointed, kissing Jens’ shoulder.

Jens laughed, this time opening his eyes, grateful that Lucas had thick blinds over his window. The sun was so bright at this time of the day.

‘’You hungry?’’ Lucas asked, propping himself up on his elbow, staring down at the boy in his bed, tangled in his sheets. ‘’I’m not the best cook, but I make amazing toast.’’

‘’You’re offering me breakfast?’’ Jens asked, a bit surprised. ‘’I thought you’d hold me hostage in your room and sneak me out some time later.’’

Lucas pulled his eyebrows, shaking his head. ‘’Why would I do that?’’

It’s what Jana did when we were together.

‘’I’d like some toast.’’

It took them a few more minutes - and a growling warning from Jens’ stomach - before they pulled themselves out of bed and decided to leave Lucas’ bedroom. They went to the kitchen and Lucas began to raid the fridge of anything edible to go along with the toast that he had promised.

“So, where is your dad today?” Jens asked, suddenly reminded that he was only wearing his underwear and a tee shirt in the Van Der Heijdens’ kitchen.

How awkward would it be if Lucas’ dad had been here?

‘’He’s at a congress for his work. Or something.’’ He put slices of bread in the toaster and pushed down the button. ‘’Won’t be back until late afternoon.’’

Nodding, Jens jumped onto the counter and grabbed an apple from the nearby basket and began tossing it in the air, passing time.

A silence filled the kitchen as they waited for the toaster to pop. Jens had an idea of how to fill it, but, truth be told, he was a bit nervous. Yeah, Jens Stoffels was nervous. Shocker, huh? Lucas had this effect on him. He made Jens feel nervous, and excited and warm and out of control - everything at the same time.

‘’Robbe came over yesterday. He...he asked if you were my boyfriend.’’

Lucas stilled, surprised, and took a few seconds before speaking. ‘’Am I?’’

‘’Do you want to be?’’ Jens asked back, setting the apple down and hopping off the counter, eyes set on the back of Lucas’ head where wild curls were sticking up and the moles on the uncovered part of his back.

‘’Do you want me to?’’ Lucas asked, shielding himself as he bit his bottom lip anxiously, hoping Jens will give him the answer he wanted.

‘’I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to.''

Jens came up behind Lucas and touched his shoulder, making Lucas turn around. The brunet’s face was tipped down, trying to hide his smile and pink cheeks from Jens, but the latter tilted Lucas’ chin up to get a better view of his face.

‘’So, what do you say? Will you officially be my boyfriend?”

Lucas' smile widened and he cupped Jens face, placing a kiss on his lips, as if to make their status official. He had the intention to stop there, going just for a quick kiss, but Jens’ hand slid into Lucas’ hair, fingers buried in the curls, time forgotten as they kissed, slow and lazy.

Grey smoke started coming from the toaster, a burnt smell filling the air, but both went unnoticed by the new couple, too busy in their own bubble. It wasn’t until the smoke detector’s alarm went off, the chirp blaring through the kitchen that Lucas broke from the kiss, eyes wide.

''Shit, the toasts!'' He sped to the toaster and turned it off, making the toasts jump up, completely burnt and past the edible stage of burnt.

Jens followed him behind, snickering. ''I thought you made 'amazing toasts'.'' He picked one up, immediately dropping it on the counter as it burned his fingers. ''This is carbonized.''

Lucas glared. “If you hadn't distracted me…’’

‘’You initiated the kiss!’’ Jens pointed out.

“Only because you got all serious and asked me to be your boyfriend. What was I supposed to do? Stand there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and exposing his pretty blue eyes.

Jens smiled, watching with amusement as Lucas got mildly irritated over small nothings. He thought it was really cute that their first ‘argument’ was about burnt toast and officially being together.

Extending his arms, Jens reached out for Lucas- his boyfriend and drew him to him, circling his arms around his smaller frame. Lucas exhaled a sigh, hugging Jens' middle and pushing his face into his neck.

''As much as I am liking this, you're gonna have to let me go. Those toasts aren't going to put themselves in the toaster,'' Lucas pointed out, yet not letting go of the other boy.

Jens snorted. ''No shit?''

Lucas pulled back, frowning. ''I thought you were hungry...''

''Yeah, but you can make me breakfast later.’’ Jens loosened his hold and descended his hands down, getting a full grasp of Lucas’ ass, making the latter’s cheeks flush. ‘’This is what I want now. And this.'' He started kissing along Lucas’s jaw, trailing his lips down the side of his neck. ''What time does your dad gets home, again?''

Humming, Lucas tilted his neck, giving Jens more room to kiss, as he tried to remember what his dad had texted him yesterday. ‘’Around 4pm? I think.’’

‘’That’s fine by me.’’

Without taking his lips off Lucas, Jens walked them back in the direction of Lucas’s bedroom, impatient to pull off some layers and get their hands on each other. Lucas giggled as Jens guided him into the hallway table, almost knocking down whatever was on it.

Monday, February 10th

The veggies were still a bit crunchy as Jens chewed them, needing a supplementary minute or two of cooking, but Jens didn’t comment on it. The carrots were fine. His mom did the best she could in ten minutes.

‘’Ines is having a sleepover on Saturday,’’ Lotte announced after she was served her dinner, stabbing a carrot with her fork. ‘’Can I go?’’

Fenna pulled her eyebrows. ‘’Didn’t you two have a sleepover this past weekend?’’ With her crazy schedule, she was losing track of time sometimes.

‘’Yeah, but it wasn’t for her birthday. Can I go? Please Mama, she’s my best friend,’’ she begged, pouting and all.

Fenna sighed. Birthdays meant presents and, with their current financial situation, they didn’t have spare money for an impromptu birthday present for Ines. The money Jens had given her had helped, but they still had the eviction notice to worry about and pay before it was too late.

It crushed Fenna’s heart to tell her daughter ‘no’, but maybe it was time she learned the value of money and that she can’t always go to birthday parties.

‘’Lotte, I don’t think-’’

‘’Friday is Valentine’s Day, Lotte.” Jens piped in. “I think Mom and Dad already have plans for the weekend plus, I thought we could do something special together.”

Lotte looked at him, eyebrows pulled together, as if trying to figure out if he was serious. “You’re only asking me because you have nobody else to spend it with.”

Jens couldn’t deny that she was right - half right. Technically, he didn't have someone to spend Valentine's Day with. This weekend fell on Lucas' mom's weekend and he'll be in Utrecht, leaving Jens by himself on Lovers' Day.

All Jens wanted to do was spend this day - of all days - with his new boyfriend, but now was not the time to come out to his family and tell them about Lucas. Plus, it was too early in their relationship to be introduced to each other's parents.

“I’m asking you because you are my favorite girl, next to Mom of course, and I want to do something special with you.”

Fenna tried to hide her laugh at Jens remark.

“Like what?” Lotte asked, still skeptical.

“Well, I was thinking we could bake Valentine's Day cupcakes together and decorate them with pink and red frosting, candies and everything. Maybe we could watch movies too? What about the live-action Aladdin? Or Beauty and the Beast?''

Lotte thought about it for a minute, but before she could give Jens an answer, they heard the front door open and close. Jens glanced at his mom across the table, knowing that it was his dad and Fenna tensed, worried her husband was intoxicated.

Much to their surprise, Mohamed had an unusual smile when he walked into the kitchen. Her seat facing the kitchen entrance, Lotte saw him first and let out a squeal, happy to see her father.

‘’Dad! Dad! I got an 8 on my Math test,’’ Lotte announced proudly. She jumped down from her chair and went to get her test from her backpack.

‘’Careful. Don’t get sauce all over your test, Lotte.’’

Mohamed took the paper, smiling at his daughter, proud of her progress. ‘’Really? That’s amazing, Sweetie. I knew you could do it.’’

‘’Jens helped me a lot. He taught me how to multiplicate because I couldn’t understand what the teacher was doing.’’

He sat at the table and gave a thankful smile to his son.

‘’You hungry? I didn’t know if you were going to be there for dinner so I didn’t make you a plate.’’

‘’I’ll fetch myself a plate, but, first, I have good news.’’ He glanced at his family, the three of them sitting at the dinner table, and smiled. ‘’I...I found a job.’’

‘’You did? Where? How? ’’ Fenna asked, trying to contain her excitement.

‘’A friend of mine told me they needed a new guy at his workplace. I applied and he gave them a good reference about me and...I got the job,’’ he explained simply, crossing the kitchen to stand by his wife. ‘’Things are going to get better now,’’ Mohamed whispered to Fenna, careful so Lotte wouldn’t hear, camouflaging his secret with a kiss on her cheek.

Jens looked at his dad with disbelief and skepticism. He wanted to believe that his dad wasn’t lying, but there was something, something he just couldn’t put his finger on, that made him question this sudden new job. Like, how could he get a job so fast? How come that after weeks - months, even - of searching for a new job that an offer was presented to him so quickly.

Tuesday, February 11th

After seeing Lucas coming out of the boys' gym locker room, there was no way Jens was going home without him. Fresh faced, his hair was still damp from the shower he just took, perfect curls resting over his forehead, and he smelled of sweet vanilla soap - and a touch of woodsy Jens didn't recognize.

Without thinking twice, Jens pulled him back into the locker room, not caring if there were still people left, and kissed him hard. Lucas followed willingly, tugging Jens closer by the side of his sweatshirt and smiling into the kiss.

Once they started, they couldn't stop. They could've, but they didn't want to.

Jens felt Lucas’ smile fade as the kiss deepened, becoming more serious somehow, tongues sliding together, becoming a bit too explicit for school.

Conveniently, Jens' phone buzzed in his pocket, a message from his mom saying she was going grocery shopping with Lotte after school.

The timing couldn't have been better.

Jens' hand slid under Lucas' shirt, grazing his stomach, making the hair rise on his skin as they kissed. Their motions were calm and relaxed, kissing languidly, bathing in each other's embrace.

It was a change from their usual horny teenager rhythm, laying there, so close to each other, with no intentions of taking it further than soft kisses and wandering hands.

Lucas pulled Jens closer, rolling them so Jens was on top. He liked this. Feeling Jens' weight, heavy and warm on top of him. His hand was hot against Jens' thigh, the warmth of his palm cutting through the denim.

‘’Do you have weed, by chance?’’ Lucas asked, his voice a soft mumble.

Jens hummed. ‘’Yeah. It’s in the first drawer over there.’’

Lucas smiled and removed himself from under Jens, making the latter whine in protest and grasp at the back of Lucas’ tee shirt, trying to pull him back to him. Lucas laughed. ‘’I forgot mine at my mom’s when I last visited. I had something else on my mind,’’ he explained, glancing at Jens with a knowing smile, flashing back to two weeks ago at the train station.

‘You’re gonna have to roll though, I don't have any pre-rolled joint. There’s a grinder and papers in the back.’’

Jens watched as Lucas crossed the room, hair messy from Jens relentlessly running his hands through it and his tee shirt wrinkled from rolling in the sheets for the past half hour. He smiled smugly, letting himself sink deeper into his pillows, asking himself how he got so lucky.

‘’Did you find it?’’ Jens asked from his spot on the bed, seeing Lucas standing still in front of the open drawer. ‘’Luc?’’

Turning on his heels, the brunet held up a baggie of colorful pills, fingers clutching the plastic tight. ‘’What’s this?’’

Lucas wasn’t an idiot. He knew what those were, but a part of him was hoping that he was wrong. That his boyfriend didn’t have drugs hidden in his drawer.

Fuck.

Jens sat up, panic flashing through his eyes. Shit, shit, shit. ‘’I’m not taking them,’’ he defended immediately.

‘’Then, why is it in your drawers?’’ Lucas demanded, eyes on Jens, expecting further explanations. ‘’This shit is addicting and dangerous. Have you not seen enough deaths caused by Xanax or even Fentanyl?’’

‘’I’m not doing drugs, Luc. I promise.’’

‘’But why do you have them?’’

‘’Because I sell them!’’ Jens felt himself being weighed down at the confession, taking a few steps back and sitting back on his bed. ‘’I sell them…’’ he repeated with a calmer tone, shoulders slumping. ‘’I’m doing this for my family.’’

Stunned and confused, Lucas’ eyebrows furrowed.

‘’About 3 months ago my dad lost his job with no severance pay, so my mom has had to pick up a lot of double shifts at the hospital. She has been stretching herself thin and I couldn't keep watching her-’’

Jens' voice interrupted and Lucas sighed, walking over to sit on the bed, no longer feeling like lecturing his boyfriend about the seriousness of taking drugs. Cert, selling drugs didn't take away the danger, but a lecture wasn't what Jens needed right now, it was support.

Exhaling a breath, Jens casted his eyes down on his lap, trying to gather his thoughts. He wanted to be honest with Lucas, but he wasn’t the only one involved and Jens doubted his parents would want their financial struggles to be spreading around to strangers.

‘’Money started becoming a bigger problem over the past weeks and I didn’t know what else to do. I just knew that I wanted to help. I'm helping a lot at home with my sister, graduation is so close too; it was impossible for me to get a job. So, I took the easy way and started selling drugs.'' Jens paused, scoffing a humorless laugh and shaking his head. ''My mom thinks I sold stuff - that's what I told her. I hate lying to her, but I can't exactly tell her where it came from because I know she won't take the money even though she needs it.''

Family was important for Jens. Especially his mom and sister. He loved his family and would do anything for them, to help them.

''At first, it was just weed, but Michiel convinced me to do more, to expand my sales to pills. He said that it would pay more too, so I accepted.’’

Jens knew Lucas wasn't proud of him, that he didn't approve of his way, but it brought money home, it helped his parents. Even if it was dirty money.

Lucas took Jens’ hands in his, supportive and understanding. ‘’I know you want to help your family, Jens, but this drugs shit isn’t the solution,’’ he said, worry in his tone.

‘’For now it is,’’ Jens pressed. ‘’It's not permanent, okay. I promise. Just until things get easier at home.’’

The world of drugs was anything but safe, but Lucas knew there was nothing he could say that would make Jens backtrack.

He sighed. ‘’Be careful. Please. These guys aren’t fucking around.’’

Thursday, February 13th

Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day and Jens still hadn’t found an answer to his question: should he get something for Lucas? They had been official for only four days, but it was Valentine’s Day. Couples get something for their partners regardless how long they’ve been together.

He laid on his back, staring at his ceiling in hope to find his answer. He didn't want to go for the cheesy rose or chocolate - even though Lucas and his sweet tooth would’ve loved chocolate. He couldn't draw like Sander or write cute poems like girls often do.

Jens sighed. And he thought buying a Christmas present for a secret santa was difficult/tricky/complicated; this was far worse.

A soft vibration shook his mattress and Jens reached for his phone.

Aaron: Anyone has a red shirt to lend me for tomorrow?

Jens: Shit. The Valentine’s Day theme…

Tomorrow, in honor of Valentine’s Day, their school’s had a themed dress code where the students had to wear something pink or red. It sounded a bit childish, something Lotte’s school would’ve done, but Jens had no choice but to participate. It wasn’t really a problem for him though, having a lot of red shirts in his closet.

Moyo: Are you wearing pink tomorrow, Robbe?

Robbe: Not all gays wears pink, you know 😑

Moyo: 😘

Moyo: Are we going to the bar again this year? There’s always hot chicks looking to hook up on Valentine’s Day

Robbe: Can’t. Sander made plans, but he didn’t tell me. I asked for something chill. Staying in is fine with me. As long as we’re together, I don’t care what we’re doing

Aaron: Sap 🤮

Robbe: 🖕🏻

Robbe: And you, with Amber?’’

Aaron: We’re going to the movies. They have a special screening of The Notebook and Valentine’s Day. I’m also going to get flowers for her

Jens: Wow, I would’ve never thought you were the romantic type

Aaron: Amber told me exactly what she wanted to do

Moyo: Of course she did

Aaron: You’re just jealous because you’re the only single person this year

Moyo: Fuck you all 🖕🏻

Moyo: And you, Jens, any plans with the mystery girl?

Jens: Yeah. Her name’s Lotte

Moyo: As in your sister?

Moyo: Dude you have to babysit? That fucking blows!!

Jens: I would rather spend time with her all evening than watch your ass get rejected by girls all evening and then come crying to me about it

Robbe: 😂

Aaron: 😂👏

Moyo: 🖕🏻

Jens: You can join us though. We’re going to make cupcakes

Moyo: Can we put weed in it?

Jens: Wtf? She’s 8 bro...

Friday, February 14th

‘’I left a rose in Amber’s locker this morning,’’ Aaron told the boys at lunch, bragging about his superior romanticism.

Robbe shook his head. ‘’And I’m the sap?’’

‘’It’s romantic! The girls will go all ‘aw’ when she’ll show them. I think they’re jealous.’’

‘’So you’re doing this to impress Amber’s friends?’’ Jens recapitulated, messing with his friend.

Aaron opened his mouth to defend himself, stopping mid-way when he realized Jens had tricked him and didn't know how to respond to that. ‘’No! I did it for Amber. She likes romantic gestures.’’

Moyo and Robbe laughed, pulling out their lunches from their bag while Aaron was already almost done with his. How can he be finished so fast? They just got here. Jens was about to do the same when his pocket began to vibrate.

Lucas: Meet me in the library 💋📚

Jens didn’t take a second to think, taking his bag from the chair next to him and stood. ‘’Gotta go. I’ll catch you guys later.’’

‘’Where are you going? We just sat down like ten minutes ago,’’ Robbe asked.

Jens bit down his lip, trying to think fast of a quick lie, but Moyo beat him to it and spoke first.

‘’I bet you’re meeting up with that Tuesday chick to make out,’’ he guessed, raising his eyebrows and making kissy noises.

‘’I knew there was a mystery girl!’’ Aaron added, a bit too cheerful.

Jens snorted, shaking his head. ‘’You wish.’’

Jens walked in the library and smiled politely at the librarian at the front desk. He didn’t go there...ever so she was probably confused to see a new face. He walked along the aisle, trying to look for Lucas’ table among the sea of pink and red students.

The library wasn't too crowded - not that Jens knew how many people came here daily. He recognized a few people he had classes in common with but kept going. His heart began to race, a tightening feeling in his stomach, when he saw the head of curls in the pink sweatshirt. Jens smiled, sneaking up on him.

‘’Aren’t you supposed to be studying?’’ Jens seductively whispered in his ear.

A shiver ran down Lucas’ spine and the brunet looked up, blue eyes staring at Jens, pencil between his teeth. He had a pile of books and papers strategically placed according to all his exams up for re-do because of his mid-year move.

Lucas put his pencil down and grinned, happy to see his boyfriend. ‘’Yeah, but I figured I could use a break,’’ he said, raising an eyebrow.

Reading through his thoughts, Jens smirked and Lucas stood, beckoning Jens to follow him to the back shelves of the library. It was cliché and risky, knowing they’ll both get kicked out if they get caught kissing between stacks, but they didn’t care.

Lucas backed up until he touched the wall behind him, reaching for Jens and tugging him down for a kiss, hands bunching up the material of his hoodie.

‘’Cute.’’

Lucas cocked an eyebrow. ‘’Me?’’

Jens rolled his eyes. ‘’That too.’’ He set his hands on Lucas’ waist, slipping under his sweatshirt and pulling him closer. ‘’I meant your sweatshirt. You look good in pink.’’ Jens dipped his head and kissed under his ear, making Lucas tilt his head back to make more room.

‘’That’s why I wore it today. I know you like it on me.’’

‘’It’s the one you wore at the skatepark. After our first kiss.’’

How could Jens not remember that moment? Lucas in a pink oversized sweatshirt, sunlight shining on him on top of the half-pipe. The sleeves were covering his hands a bit, fingers peeking out, looking cute as hell.

‘’I did?’’ Lucas asked, not remembering well.

Jens hummed, pressing his forehead against Lucas’, feeling the Lucas’ hands slide into his hair.

‘’Sucks that my first Valentine’s Day as a non-single person I have to be away from my boyfriend,’’ Lucas lamented with a sad sigh.

Jens was sad too, but he didn’t show it, not wanting to make Lucas feel more upset about spending Valentine's Day miles away from each other. Instead, he captured Lucas’ lips with his, cupping his jaw and deepening the kiss, making the brunet forget about tonight. Pressing himself closer to Jens, Lucas let out a small sound that was a bit too loud and inappropriate for a secret library make out session.

As Jens’ hands were starting to travel south towards Lucas’ backside, a large crash came from the otherside of the library, making Jens and Lucas jump apart from each other. Lucas went to the end of the row to see what was going on.

“Someone knocked over a book cart.”

Looking at the time on his phone, Jens groaned. “The bell is about to ring. Will I see you before you leave?”

“I’m catching an early train so I’ll be leaving before my last class.”

Jens sighed, not to pleased that he wasn’t going to give Lucas a proper send off. ‘’See you Sunday, then?’’

Lucas nodded, pressing one last kiss to Jens’ lips. ‘’Sunday.’’

Lotte ditched him. His little sister ditched him for her best friend whose birthday party she couldn’t attend on Saturday. After telling Ines the tearable news, the little girl decided to invite Lotte over and have a Valentine’s Day girls night to make up for her non attendance.

That left Jens by himself on Friday night - on Valentine’s Day night.

His mom was at work - and hopefully his dad too. It was weird to see him get ready in the morning and go to work, having a routine again. He’d drop Lotte off every morning, her school being on his way, and come back around dinner time or later depending on the day.

Sitting on his couch with a bag of chips, Jens flipped through the channels, trying to find something to watch. He rolled his eyes when seeing only bad cheesy movies like Valentine’s Day and The Notebook. And the news.

With a sigh, Jens sent a message to Moyo.

Jens: Wanna come over? My plans got cancelled

Moyo: Can’t bro. There’s so many hot chicks here. Tonight is a good night for me, I can feel it!!

Moyo: Come to the bar!

Jens scrunched his face. He didn’t feel like going to a bar tonight. He didn’t have money for drinks and didn’t feel like dancing and grinding himself against girls - or anyone else other than his boyfriend. If Robbe and Aaron would’ve been there, maybe Jens would’ve reconsidered. But, they weren’t.

He didn’t bother texting Moyo back, sinking into the couch’s back pillows and checking his social media, trying to cure his boredom. Sander had posted a cute selfie of him and Robbe on their date, making Jens smile. He liked the post and scrolled down to the next picture. Aaron had posted on his Instagram too, a picture of a popcorn and movie theater seats, telling everyone how in love he was with Amber.

Seeing his friends on dates with their respective lovers reminded Jens how he was the only one of the gang to not spend his night with his significant other. It hadn’t even been 8 hours since Lucas had left Antwerp and, already, he was missing his beautiful face.

Jens stood, dusting off the crumbs on his shirt and headed to his room, taking advantage of his parents’ absence to smoke a joint. It’s not like he had anything better to do.

Opening his drawer, Jens saw that he was all out of weed and groaned. He must’ve forgot to keep some for himself and sold everything. He scratched for the back of the drawer, hoping a couple grams had fallen there, but there was none. Fuck.

Mom: Can you pick up Lotte in the morning? I have to do a double and won't be home in time

Jens: Can’t Dad do it?

Mom: He has work

Jens: On the weekend?

Mom: Yes, on the weekend

Mom: Will you pick her up? Please

Jens sighed, missing the old days.

Can’t he just be a teenager for once? He missed the days where he could hangout at Robbe's or Moyo's and do nothing but drink and smoke, partying all weekend. When he got wasted enough, he would just sleep it off and not have to worry about babysitting his sister or his secret side job to help his parents. It was so simple and easy back then...

He almost grabbed his phone and called Moyo for backup, knowing he’ll have some at home, but the latter was at the bar, most likely drunk. And, Jens would have to explain why he was out of weed and why he needed it now. It’s not that he was ashamed of his anxieties, everyone has anxieties, but it wasn't something he wanted to scream on rooftops, never being one to be overly emotional.

Jens was a chill person. Always so calm and collected, easygoing; not much can ruffle his feathers. But, lately, his stress levels have been getting higher and he wasn’t used to so much stress in his life.

With his father's job loss, a lot of other things started to tumble down like an avalanche. Their finances had slowed down, but the bills were piling up, adding to the already tumbling snow. His father's lack of responsibility and empty promises were catching up to them and his mom was exhausted, trying to make up for his mistakes. Jens was trying to hold it back, to help where he could, but there was only so much he could do to prevent the avalanche from swallowing his family.

With time, Jens began to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Despite his best attempts at adulting, teenagers usually don’t have the skills or the brain development necessary to really care for themselves or a full family. Because their brain is still in development - and will only be fully developed around their mid-twenties -, they are more vulnerable to anxiety and stress. There are many moments where they don’t know what they were doing. Frustration mixed with a lack of ability when it comes to 'adulting’ raises teenage anxiety levels.

Keeping everything straight in his mind was difficult. He had to help his parents keep everything from Lotte and take care of her here and there, maintaining good grades, figuring out all these new inclinations regarding his sexuality and falling in love with Lucas.

All of this was overwhelming sometimes.

Without realizing, Jens had found himself self medicating to relieve his stress. Weed, which used to be recreational, was now used to significantly reduce stress and was no longer just for fun.

Even Lucas had become a stress relief without meaning to. With his gorgeous smile and bright eyes, Jens couldn’t help but smile whenever he was in his presence.

Usually, he would lit a blunt and smoke a bit of weed, but when he was all out.

As a last resort, Jens glanced at the baggie of Xanax. He stared at the rectangular white pill, hesitating. He had never taken it before, but he knew it was medically used to ease the mind and calm anxiety, a stress reliever. Just like weed. Taking one pill wouldn’t hurt, right?

He grabbed one from the baggie and popped it into his mouth, swallowing dry.

#vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #wtfock #van der stoffels #lucas x jens #jens x lucas #skam nl #jens's season #please leave comments #I worked really hard on this one

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atths--twice · 4 years

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Mulder and Scully share memories of how and when they fell in love with one another. Little places along the way, where pieces of their hearts were given and shared.

A Patchwork Heart 3a/8

Chapter One

Moments Lived in Miles Traveled

After their car breaks down, they must use a rental car. As a result, memories of the past begin to rise to the surface.

March 2020

Scully tried not to laugh as she held Faith and watched Mulder struggle to put her car seat into the rental car they were picking up, after his car overheated and they discovered the radiator would need to be replaced.

The steam coming from his car as they were heading home, still miles away, had led to waiting on a tow truck, the warm spring day feeling even warmer as they waited in the non running car. When the man arrived, he had smiled at Faith, who was intrigued with the big truck and flashing lights. Discovering it was not a simple overheating, but a broken radiator, Mulder had sworn and shook his head.

The driver had kindly taken them to the nearby rental agency before heading to the dealership, their warranty still thankfully covering the repair. Scully and Faith had waited outside, petting the big furry cat who had been laying in a patch of sun when they arrived, as Mulder picked out the car.

The cat had pushed at Faith’s hand, purring loudly, wrapping in and out of her legs, and then falling to the ground and rolling onto his back. She had laughed as she bent down and patted his fluffy belly. He had jumped up quickly, pushing his head into her chin, and rubbing against her face.

“Cat,” Faith had said and Scully grinned as a new word was added to her vocabulary.

“Yes, baby girl, it’s a cat.”

Mulder had walked out, scaring the cat and causing it to run across the parking lot. Faith had attempted to chase it, and Scully stopped her, picking her up and kissing her cheeks.

“Cat,” she had said again, pointing toward the cat who was now licking his front paw.

“Whoa… she said cat!” Mulder had grinned and blew a raspberry on Faith’s cheek, causing her to laugh and momentarily forget about the cat.

They had walked to the car and now they stood waiting for him to put the seat in, which was a battle he seemed to be losing.

“I swear to God,” he muttered loudly. “This car doesn’t have the hooks for the buckles. How are we supposed… no wait, I found them. Fucking hell…”

“Hey,” Scully called out to him with a laugh. Glancing down at Faith, she nodded as he looked up.

“As if she can understand me,” he replied, with a roll of his eyes.

“She said cat a few minutes ago and she said S-H-I-T the other day so… you’re wrong,” she countered, raising her eyebrows at him.

“She did not. Stop saying that she did.” He shook his head with a heavy sigh and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Sure sounded like it to me,” she teased and he laughed.

“Maybe you should get your hearing checked. You know, especially as you’ve recently had a birthday. As we age, Scully…”

“Oh, buddy, no. You’re gonna want to stop right there,” she said, putting up a hand and shaking her head. He grinned and she glared at him. “Your daddy is skating on very thin ice, my girl.” She held her stare as she spoke to Faith and he laughed and shook her head again. “Put the car seat in the car so we can get some lunch. Your ladies are getting hungry.”

Turning around with a grin, he finally set the seat in the car securely, and came to grab the backpack and place it in the car. Kissing Faith, Scully handed her to Mulder. He nuzzled her neck, causing her to laugh, before he put her in her car seat and shut the door.

“Let’s get going, old lady,” he teased, looking at her with a grin as he opened the drivers side door.

She cupped a hand around her ear and turned her head to the side. “What was that? I’m having a hard time hearing you.” She closed her hand, leaving only her middle finger up, and he laughed.

“Get your ass in the car,” he said, gesturing with his head to the passenger side.

She smiled and walked over, getting in and taking a deep breath, the scent of rental cars never seeming to change. It was a mixture of faux new car smell, greasy meals, and old cologne and perfumes. An odd combination and others may find it overwhelming or perhaps not even notice, but to her it was a familiar scent and one she found oddly comforting.

He looked at her as he started the car, giving her a wink. Suddenly, she saw him on their first case: younger, no gray hair at his temples, the lines in his face far less prominent. His eager excitement as he continuously cracked open sunflower seeds, something she had found cute and charming, was nearly palpable.

She saw him staring at her and laughing, or rolling his eyes at something she disagreed with, as he tried to prove his point, and the concentration needed that went into reading a huge fold out map, no smart phones with fancy apps available back then to help them find their way.

She smiled as they backed up and pulled out of the parking lot, the wind from the open windows blowing cooling air inside the warm car, as Faith babbled in the backseat. She laughed softly as she looked out the window and shook her head. Her mind drifted through her memories, thinking back on the many miles they had traveled together, learning about each other in cars similar to the one they were now driving down the road.

That first case… so green and without any field experience, she had not known what to expect, but it definitely was not someone like him...

____________

He filled the silence in the car, chatting about everything. It was very different from any other man she had traveled with in the past. Jack usually had a topic planned ahead of time, thus the car ride was spent wisely, as he used to say. Ethan liked listening to classical music and for the short time they were together, she heard more Bach and Beethoven than she ever wanted to hear again.

But Mulder, though not her boyfriend, thus not an entirely accurate comparison, loved to discuss anything and everything. Conspiracy theories, current events, old cases, places they each had been, childhood fears... nothing was off topic. She learned more about him than anyone she had ever known in her life, including her family members.

He was brilliant, his mind absorbing and retaining knowledge in a way she had never seen. He could call up baseball statistics, a case from years ago, addresses, and telephone numbers. He knew her senior thesis by heart, which he rattled off at the strangest of times, never ceasing to amaze her that he knew it so well.

He knew so much, about so much, it led to conversations that sometimes left her head spinning. After a while she learned to simply nod and stop listening to what he had to say, finding it to be the best way to handle the nonstop chatter.

It had, of course, backfired on her as he would bring it up later and, at her blank stare, he would sigh and pout with that big bottom lip sticking out, before explaining it all over again. She enjoyed those times, though it was a repeat of what he had already said, his excitement over a topic evident as he rambled and paced around the motel room.

When he would leave, his mouth finally running out of words to say, she would lie down in bed, wondering if it was normal to go to sleep with the thought of that bottom lip jutting out and those puppy eyes staring at her. He was her partner for God’s sake, and yet his eyes and that lip taunted her.

They would take turns driving of course, neither of them able to stay awake for hours and hours on end; the towns they visited were sometimes far from commercial airports. The first time he commented about her struggle to adjust the seat, his six foot frame needing more space than her smaller one, her angry eyes quickly shut him up. He never mentioned it the same way again but she saw his grin, his smirk, as she pulled the seat forward and adjusted the back.

He got his comeuppance though and it always made her laugh. When he would forget about the fact that she had driven last, he would attempt to sit down in a seat that was far too close. His head would hit the roof of the car, his knees hitting the steering wheel, as a curse fell from his lips. Covering her laugh with a cough, he would curse again as he moved the seat back.

When she was the driver, he was able to read and most often would share the information with her. Sometimes it was about the case, but other times it was about a book he had read, or an article he found interesting in the paper. As he tended to drone on at times, his words tumbling over themselves, his voice becoming louder in his excitement, she would call for the agreed upon ten minutes of silence.

One night when they had been upset, angry, and extremely tired, they agreed that if silence was called for, the other had to adhere to the request for at least ten minutes. Oftentimes, the other person would agree without any problems, but some days he was not so acquiescent.

If he had a topic he was dying to discuss and she had called for silence, he would check his watch, making sure he would know when the allotted time would be up. With him not talking, sometimes the pressing quiet in the car would then become too much. Turning on public radio, she would breathe a sigh of relief, finding it refreshing to have something else to focus on besides the silence or the topic of his choosing.

When the radio was on, they would generally both become engrossed in the story they heard, forgetting why the call for silence had been asked for in the first place. In those occurrences, the ten minute call for silence would have long since passed as the show ended. A lively discussion would then take place over what they had just heard, the miles rumbling beneath them and carrying them forward.

When she became ill, she noticed a change in him. He was quiet, especially when they drove, their lively discussions halted, as if he did not want to disturb her, or cause any undue problems. She felt how he withheld things from her at times, his frustration or his anger, and she hated it. Hated being treated differently because she had a disease inside of her.

She was tired after the treatments, sometimes for just a bit and other times for days after. She fell asleep in the office a couple of times, his hand laid gently on her shoulder waking her up, his eyes sad and concerned. She pushed away from him, away from those sad hazel eyes, walking down the hall to the restroom, where she allowed herself a cry before splashing cold water on her face.

In a meeting, she had dozed off, and he ever so slightly touched her arm and whispered her name, letting her know that she had fallen asleep without any other words spoken. Her cheeks flushed but she was unable to rush out of the room like she had in the office. He kept his eyes straight ahead, but she knew exactly how they would look at her if he turned his head. Broken and scared; exactly how she felt.

After those times, he began to drive more often when they were out of town. No discussion had between them, he simply took over the lion’s share of what they were doing. She tried to stay awake and be the navigator as she always had been, but she failed. He never said a word, instead he turned the radio on low or remained silent, allowing her to sleep, knowing she was exhausted, but would not discuss it.

With a general knowledge of how long it would take for them to get from point A to point B, some days when she was nauseous and had a hard time not vomiting, she would feel the car slowing and the drive taking longer, in order to allow her to be her when she arrived to work on the case.

There were small plastic trash bags in his suitcases which he placed in the glove box of any rental car they used, along with packs of tissues. Just in case, he would say, not meeting her eyes, closing the glove box softly. While a part of her wanted to scream that she could take care of herself, that she did not need his help, she knew that it was not true. Not always.

He carried gum and mints in his pockets, silently handing them to her after she had thrown up either outside the car door or into one of the plastic bags he so thoughtfully packed. He always took one for himself, thus making it seem as though only she needed it. His caring both annoyed and meant the world to her.

On one of the rare nights she did drive, he made a comment about switching places as she looked tired, and she snapped. She did not need his worry, his attempt to hold her back, she would not stop driving or working for that matter, even if he felt she should. He said nothing, letting her yell and release her frustration, something that had been building for a while she realized, as she ran out of steam and finally fell silent.

Turning her head to look at him, she found him staring at her, his eyes hurt and sad. He said nothing, and she knew she had gone too far. He had been nothing but supportive since it had all happened, and while she did not like the feeling of not being in control and at times, less than, she appreciated the little things he did.

Feeling like shit, but unable and unwilling to apologize, she kept her eyes on the road, the motel not far away. When they pulled in, he stopped her from leaving the car with a hand on hers as she unbuckled her seat belt. He stared at her, trying to say words, but failing to articulate them.

“I need to be here, Mulder,” she whispered, squeezing his hand and dropping her eyes. He squeezed back with a nod.

After that moment, she was more accepting, if that was how it could be described, of his help and care. He never said it, but his eyes watching her and the silent things he did, were not unnoticed.

Scully shook her head, tears in her eyes, as she looked out the window. What a different time it had been, and how different they had been. She released her breath, and in the silence of the car, Faith most likely sleeping in her car seat, she thought again of days spent with him in cars similar to the one they were in now…

They sat together in traffic jams, through heated discussions about whatever came to mind. Times when silence was heavy and filled with worry or times when it was light and welcome. There were times when they laughed, both of them overly tired with miles to go before they reach their destination.

Days of worn out bodies, exhausted injury, standing beside the rental attendant explaining the mess in their car. Being yelled at by Skinner, or Kersh, over the complaints from the rental companies.

There were days when the weather was freezing but the heater did not work and his coat was offered to her as she shivered. Then there were days when the heat was unbearable and the air conditioner was on the fritz. His coat was not needed then, nor was her own as she stripped it off and threw it in the backseat along with her dress shirt sometimes, sitting in the car in just a lace camisole, causing him to swallow hard.

There were places where the rain came down so hard, they had to nearly yell to be heard above it. Or decide when to make a run for it as the lack of umbrellas would lead to wet clothes if they were not fast enough. Then the days came when wet clothes were welcome, as it led to stripping and warming each other up.

They traveled many miles together and along those miles and bumpy roads, she fell in love with him. In cafés, diners, interrogation rooms, watching him with children, how he spoke to women, his kindness and care in his voice. All those places, she fell in love with him, but nowhere so much as in those stuffy, and often smelly, rental cars as they drove all over the country.

Back roads, highways, interstates, surface streets, his voice singing along with the radio, droning on about his theories, or softly telling her of his worry for her, simple words that spoke volumes.

Within the confines of the four doors, they learned the give-and-take that became the cornerstone of the partnership. Respect, admiration, and understanding traveled with them, the car their touchstone, their way to re-center when everything around them was chaotic…

“Hey, Scully?” Mulder's voice said, breaking into her thoughts. “What do you want for lunch?”

“Anywhere is fine,” she said, wiping at her eyes discretely, though her tears were happier than before.

“Italian?”

“Anything,” she answered, looking at him with a smile, reaching for his hand and locked their fingers together giving it a squeeze. He turned his head to look at her and gave her a quizzical look.

“What?” he asked and she shook her head.

“Nothing,” she replied with a smile of her own. “Nothing at all.” He smiled, his eyes back on the road and she saw again, the young excitable agent, out to save the world.

Closing her eyes, she saw through the years, all the different versions of him, and she smiled, happy to have known each of them.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him as he was now, the best version of himself; still him, yet older and wiser.

“Still gonna tell me it’s ‘nothing’ with the way you’re staring at me?” he teased, squeezing her hand.

“Yup,” she said, smiling as he looked at her, his eyes happy. He laughed and nodded with a sigh. “Just keep driving.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, raising her fingers to his lips for a kiss, as he stepped on the gas, going wherever the road took them.

______________________________________________

So this particular story was written for on my really good friend on her birthday. It is also the 100th XF story I wrote and I was bound and determined to have it ready for her. I was so excited to post it for her. Hope you all enjoyed it!

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Post MSIV #Family Life: The Story Beyond the Series #Humor #Fluff #Family Fluff #Memories #Rental Cars #Learning One Another in Miles Traveled #Love #Caring #Together

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